Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers
by StayWithTea
Summary: Human AU / Aspiring ballerina, Victoria, moves away from her family home and to London with her budding singer room mate, Jemima. The two girls bond over lack of work, the struggles of independent life, and love loss from their old lives.
1. Chapter 1

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

Victoria walked sluggishly home after a long and merciless day. The wind beat at her porcelain cheeks and left it's pink stamp on them, God she loved London and it's harsh city wind. She'd moved to the big city a month ago, ready to take the stage by storm and make her mark as a dancer. So far, she'd got a job as a waitress in a little Italian joint though she didn't speak a word of Italian, lost her waitressing job because she couldn't speak a word of Italian and then picked up a different waitressing job for a little coffee shop that was home to a bunch of pretentious struggling artists so she fit in well. Basically, she'd become a professional waitress which had it's perks, one being that flexible hours meant she could make it to as many auditions as possible. She didn't even need to worry much about money since her Uncle and Brother both had enough money to chip in for rent or food if need be.

The blonde fumbled in her jean pockets before pulling out her key, she smiled at the door of her little basement flat before letting herself in to the smell of tea, honey and josticks, a sign that her room mate was already home.

Victoria had been worried about sharing a flat, Quaxo had set it up for before she left their family home for London and she'd never met the other girl, she was just told that it would be one of Quaxo's friend's little sisters. When Victoria got to London, Jemima was already there waiting for her with a cup of tea and a smile.

Jemima was the little sister that Victoria always wanted, she was only three years younger so there wasn't a huge age gap to make it feel awkward but she brought out the tender side of Victoria that had remained hidden after being the baby of the family for so long. Jemima was small, so small that Victoria felt like a giant in comparion and she herself was barely five foot five. They contrasted perfectly, but in a way that complimented each other.

For instance, Victoria looked like a doll with her oval face, doe-like blue eyes, delicate bone structure, slender nose and lips that were permanently stuck in a gentle pout. Her platinum blonde waves literally looked like snow and she usually pulled them back into a bun, allowing a few strands to fall and frame her all-too-perfect face. She wore soft pastels and applied her make-up with precision in the morning.

Whereas Jemima looked like a fairy or an elf with her pointed cheekbones and sharp jaw line, little flat nose, lips that were always pulled into a smile and chocolatey almond eyes that were easily the prettiest thing about her face. She had thick, mahogany hair that mainly fell straight but occassionally flicked at the ends. She wore thumb rings and peter pan collars, lined her pretty eyes and smiled a lot.

Victoria walked into the living room, hanging her jacket and her bag up before sinking into her seat. The first weekend the girls spent together, they went out and bought their own individual chairs, the landlord had already supplied a sofa but the living room looked so much better with their little armchairs that literally yelled for someone to sink into them. Victoria had chosen a white one with delicate pink floral detail and she cuddled into it now with a satisfied smile.

"Don't get too comfortable," came her room mate's voice, she spoke like she was permanently singing, "Your brother rang, he'll be over after work."

Victoria groaned, "Bloody hell, tell him to go away."

Jemima came out of the kitchen brandishing two cups of tea and her cheeky grin, "Do you think he'll bring his cards again? I love it when Quaxo brings his cards."

Victoria sat up a little straighter and smiled graciously as she was handed a cup of tea, "I've had enough of his bloody cards and his bloody talent."

"You haven't heard back from that show thing then?" Jemima said as she sat cross-legged in her own chair.

Victoria gave her a little wink, "Hit the nail on the head."

Jemima gave her a small sympathetic smile before taking a sip of her tea. One of the other reasons Victoria loved living with Jemima was that they were both out of work performers, Jemima had moved out of her family home and to London so she could spend a few years studying opera, something she had little interest in but her Auntie encouraged her so much she felt like she needed to. Her spare time was mainly spent working behind the counter at a really greasy fast food joint but the rest of the time, Jemima either busked or moped over the lack of work available to a nineteen year old studying opera. It was nice to be able to come home and moan to her room mate and have her completely understand.

"How was work anyway?" the dark haired girl said with one of her elfin smiles.

"Let's just say, if another gentleman with a badly styled goatee and thick-framed glasses asks me out to sushi, I may be handing in my notice a little earlier than planned," Victoria replied, grinning as Jemima threw her head back and giggled feverently. Victoria had been bought up in a very sheltered upbringing that included private schools and gluten-free diets, it only took her two weeks in Jemima's company for her to realise that she wasn't comfortable in that kind of environment. She liked making jokes and being sarcastic, she was glad she realised that.

There was a knock at the flat's door and the blonde rolled her eyes but sprung to action, straightening her shirt and smoothing her hair before opening the door with her sweet dimpled smile.

Quaxo stood there, his black hair perfectly swept to the side and creases by the corners of his blue eyes from where he smiled his sister's dimpled smile right back at her. He had a carrier bag of fresh fruit and vegetables, as he always did when he came over to visit her, and much to Victoria's dismay he was dressed in his performance clothes.

"Move aside, sister. Man has bought salvation from pot noodles," Victoria rolled her eyes and let her brother in but grinned despite herself. Another reason to love London, Quaxo was there. He'd moved to London when he was eighteen and since then had made a name for himself as one of the best illusionists around. He started off showing tricks on the street, then he moved onto birthday parties and weddings, then appearances at clubs and now he performed in variety shows and was working on getting his own show. Victoria was happy for her brother, obviously, but she hated that she was so far behind him. She loved having him there to buy her good food though.

He didn't walk into a room, he almost skipped or sashayed. Jemima had stood up to say hello and when he got to her, he lifted her in the air and twirled her before continuing on to the kitchen and unpacking his carrier bag. Victoria gave an apologetic smile and ran into the kitchen after her brother.

"Someone's in a good mood. What's up, Houdini?"

"I resent that, dear sister, I'm _always_ in a good mood. I've got dragon fruit, by the way," the blonde's smile widened as he reached past her to pile the fruit into the bowl that Victoria kept out especially for Quaxo's food visits.

"Seriously though, why so happy? I mean, it's nice but it's a little unnerving." Quaxo was smiling, he'd finished packing the food and was already making his way to the sofa where he collapsed in his regular place with a satisfied sigh.

"I bring good tidings and great news, sister and sister's room mate," the magician said, "Tugger and I are having a little get together and you lovely ladies are obviously invited."

"What's new?" Jemima said, her eyebrow raised in amusement. Quaxo and his house mate, _The_ Rum Tum Tugger, were infamous for their get togethers. Quaxo was often entirely against them because his house mate usually invited a rowdy crowd, now that his sister lived pretty close he'd pack an overnight bag and sleep on the sofa whenever they got too overwhelming for him. Within the month of Victoria being in London, her brother had already slept over four times. The two girls had been invited before but Quaxo usually advised against it so they never went and after seeing the annoyance on his face when he showed up outside their door at stupid o'clock in the morning, the decided they didn't want to anyway.

"I'll tell you what's new, little one," Victoria blinked as he pointed at her lazilly, "I'll tell you when you make me a cup of tea because frankly, I'm exhausted."

The blonde opened her mouth to argue but was caught short by her room mate jumping out of her chair with a smile, "I'm better at making tea, Vicky's crap at it. One moment, Mr. Mistoffelees."

Quaxo flinched a little at his stage name but kept his cheery expression nevertheless, he sat and chatted to Victoria for a little while about family and their Uncle before Jemima returned, her ringed fingers wrapped around a mug, he took it tentatively and chuckled as she ran a hand through his hair, ignoring his initial annoyance at his hair being messed up.

"Now tell us why we should attend your big boys' tea party," Victoria said, draping her legs over her arm chair and watching her brother intently as he sipped his tea.

"Because it's not going to be a usual tea party," Quaxo said, straightening up, "I don't want to spoil the surprise, it'll be boring if I do. Just take my word when I say that neither of you are going to want to miss it, mainly because I've overseen everyone who's been invited so there will be no..."

"Weirdos," Victoria finished for him.

As Quaxo began to object to his sister's language and Jemima laughed at the two's back and forth, Victoria watched and thought with about how much she loved living in London. She loved the city, to some extent she loved her job, she loved her room mate and she loved her brother. Mainly, she loved the feeling of being curled up in her own chair with a lukewarm cup of tea to her right and the smell of fruit and honey.

**((A/N: I liked the thought of playing with a human AU and I like writing with these characters c: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, sorry if it's a little bit too introduction-y but I promise it will pick up pace soon!))**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

Victoria smiled at the infuriating couple as she gave them their order, they ignored her and persisted to stare intensely into each other's eyes. She placed the cups of some obscure coffee on the table and walked away, thanking them again for their purchase and all the while trying to keep cool on the surface.

Waitressing wasn't a difficult job and there were some parts of it that she really enjoyed; she liked the pay, she liked the flexible hours and to some extent she liked the people she'd met on the job. She had a few regulars that she'd learned the name of, like Alonzo the Flirt who ordered a coffee to go every morning and found a different compliment or Coricopat and Tantomille the Twins who were friends of her brother and came in to order identical black coffees and pasta salads. Victoria liked most people, she really tried to be as patient as she could but she found it being worn away slowly by some of the customers. Sometimes she looked around at the people sat eating and drinking and inwardly cringed about how overwhelmingly 'quirky' they looked. She was all for people expressing themselves in whatever way they saw fit, but she'd seen enough tie-dye shirts and rockabilly dresses to last her for a life time.

She walked back behind the kitchen and rolled her eyes at Rumpleteazer, a fellow waitress who had proved to be a good friend over the past few weeks, who gave her a mock thumbs up before darting off to deal with a guy who looked like he hadn't washed for a good fortnight that was complaining very loudly. She watched the ginger's fleeting figure and grinned shamelessly at the look of forced concern on her colleague's face. Rumpleteazer had been another life saver, she was some relation of Jemima's and she'd been visiting them in their cupboard basement with her twin brother and within and hour of knowing Victoria she insisted that the dancer take up an open position at the cafe she worked at.

Rumpleteazer and her brother, Mungojerrie, had taken Victoria by surprise. They couldn't just walk into a room normally like everyone else, they had to make as much noise as possible while doing so. She had been expecting delicate and sweet but they were quite the opposite. Both of them were quite tall and lean, with vibrant orange hair, striking honey-coloured eyes and white skin. They spoke with harsh cockney accents, waving their arms in the air as they did and Mungojerrie's first words to his cousin that he hadn't seen since last Christmas were a demand for a cup of tea. When the topic of discussion became Victoria's unemployment, Rumpleteazer became very intrigued.

"Waitressing experience? My little shit hole of a cafe could do with a few more waitresses."

"Oh I couldn't just waltz in and demand a job," Victoria had said, her cheeks pinkening.

Rumpleteazer had snorted and rolled her eyes, "Love, we need the extra hands. Bloody manager's an idiot and underestimated the amount of struggling artists in London who need cheap coffee and pretentious sounding pasta dishes. You come with me on Monday and we'll see about you getting a job, alright?"

So Victoria had went with her on Monday and got herself a job. Whilst trying to look like she was doing something productive, the blonde watched as her life saver charmed the angry customer with her biting wit and wavering smile. After the customer settled for another discounted coffee, Rumpleteazer made her way over, pulling a face that made Victoria snigger.

"You can laugh, blondie," came a cockney reply as the ginger girl bumped the other with her hip, "Looks like the happy couple are about to start flinging sugar around and you're their 'server for today'."

Victoria looked over at the couple she'd served earlier, the ones that hadn't acknowledged her when she gave them their food. The girl was yelling obscenities at him, her purple hair bobbing up and down as she shook her head, and the guy telling her to be reasonable while yelling back at her. She groaned and looked to the elder girl for comfort, her lips pursed in a pout and her eyebrows knitted together.

"It's going to be another hot coffee fight, isn't it?" she whined, much to the ginger girl's glee.

"Oh I hope so."

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Jemima was a patient person. She gave people the benefit of the doubt, she strove to ensure she saw the best in everyone and anything, she was a patient person. However, when her singing teacher was giving her that damn condescending look all the way through her duet she found it very hard not to feel annoyance creep up her back and push down on her shoulders, forcing her to feel uncomfortable and tense.

"_Excuse me,"_ she thought as she sang the last verse, _"I'm trying to be Lakme, please stop."_

Griddlebone, her vocal trainer, had the experience and the talent to be strict with her students but there was something about the way she stared Jemima down with her icy blue eyes and her lips stuck in a rigid pout that made her irritable. As the piano player stopped, Jemima looked over at her partner, an older girl with perfect curls and a pretty face, who smiled at her encouragingly. The small class clapped, as they always did after a performance, and Griddlebone joined in though it seemed strained.

"Breath control was good, beautiful harmonies. Silla, you were fantastic and really held your own there, I know it can be hard to do that when there's someone singing a higher part over you," Griddlebone was smiling but her voice was monotone, Jemima blinked at her and felt uncertain as to what she should expect for feedback. Her mentor didn't act horrifically against her or even treat her differently but Jemima knew that Griddlebone didn't like her being there, perhaps it was because she knew that Jemima really wasn't as interested as everyone else, maybe it was because she was the youngest in the class and hence an easy target.

"Jemima, a great Jemima performance."

"Um, thank you?"

"It's not a bad thing, you have an exceptional voice," Griddlebone said flatly, "But this... sweetness will only carry you so far. You're a strong soprano, but you have this ingenue-like quality to your voice that I'm worried about. I don't want it to limit you."

Jemima nodded her head and apologised, her tutor told her not to apologise but she didn't take it back anyway because she was Jemima and she apologised for everything. She took her seat as the next performers went on. As the piano player adjusted his music, she looked at Griddlebone. She really did have a strong resemblance to Victoria, with her milky skin and her platinum curls, so she felt unnerved by the iciness of her mentor. Griddlebone didn't get too attached or excited about her students, she was still a pretty sucessful singer and didn't really need to be there teaching them so Jemima found it weird that here was was, doing a job she obviously didn't really care much about. Though, then again, Jemima was wasting her time there too, studying an art she didn't really care much about.

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"I thought this was an alcohol optional, sit down, chilled out affair."

Tugger smiled, slightly guilty, as he carried a crate of gross beer on his shoulder and a bottle of wine in his free hand. He'd been on the balls of feet all day, bouncing with excitement about his little get together. He'd slummed it through his job of breakfast television, managed to sit on the couch opposite his co-workers and talk about celebrity rumours and then hung around with the researchers to make it look like he was really interested in their notes, before running to the shops and buying the evening's necessities. He should have known that Quaxo wouldn't have seen them as necessary as he did but then again his house mate didn't seem as annoyed as he usually did. The little magician stared at him with a quirked brow but there was a smile that was threatening to spead across his face.

"I thought I'd bring in extra provisions, given the circumstances of this certain affair," Tugger said, placing the crate and wine on the kitchen counter before scratching the back of his head and ruffling his fluffy hair as a result.

"Given that my little sister is coming tonight? Oh what a comforting thought," Quaxo said but he was grinning now.

The younger man was stood in his socks, his tie had been taken off, his shirt was loosened around the neck and his hair was a little unruly. He'd just come back from an early morning meeting with some studio heads, just in time to catch Tugger unpacking the result of his earlier shopping trip. Tugger liked him like this, liked him a bit messy. It reminded him that Quaxo was still the nerdy kid that played with cards instead of the big illusionist extroadinare. It reminded him that he was the dark-haired boys first London kiss, his first kiss with a guy to be fair, it reminded him why he liked Quaxo so much even if they weren't everything perhaps they could have or should have been.

"Well if that catholic school virgin look runs in the family then maybe they'll be of great importance," Quaxo rolled his eyes and cringed at the joke.

"Don't talk about my sister like that," when Tugger began to laugh the smaller boy hit him feebly, "Seriously because I might be small but I can kick your ass with magic, you know I can."

Quaxo walked past him and to the kettle, flicking it on and leaning against the counter as he tried to forget the mental image his house mate had painted in his head. Just as he went to reach for a mug from the overhead cupboards, he felt two arms wind around his waist and stubble burrow into the nook of his neck.

"Can I help you?" the magician challenged, a smile already playing at his lips.

"You can help me not make a dick out of myself tonight," Quaxo turned so he was looking his friend in the face and he raised a brow.

"How? You do it so well."

Tugger returned his face to Quaxo's neck and let his lips brush against the skin gently, he knew that Quaxo was rolling his eyes right now even if he couldn't see it. While a mere outsider would assume that the two had a sweet, loving relationship, that they were boyfriends, it was so far from the truth. They had an agreement based off mutual convenience. Quaxo had a fleeting interest in guys, Tugger was interested in everything but both were too busy with their careers in the media to pursue any real relationships, not that Tugger would want to anyway. So, instead of trying to find comfort at seedy bars with whoever was interested, they did all the typical 'couple' things together. It was rarely ever sexual, Tugger liked having someone to perch on his lap and eat bad food with him, Quaxo liked watching bad television while being perched on someone's lap, it was a great match.

"You know who's coming," Tugger's face was hidden but Quaxo knew his brow was furrowed with concern, "I want to prove that I've been a big grown up. That I'm not a complete idiot."

"You're not a _complete_ idiot," the smaller man said gently, "Are you really that scared that he's coming?"

Tugger grumbled in reply.

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"Here we are."

It was unnervingly quiet. The blonde girl held her jacket close to her and looked at her brother's house that stood proudly in the street, the lights were on and there was the faint buzz of people talking but they were the only indications that there was a party going on. Victoria didn't know what she was expecting, perhaps she wanted people to be falling out of windows and drunken girls outside scrapping so a normal house in a normal London neighbourhood was pretty anti climatic.

"Ready?" her room mate prompted, her lips turned up into a little smile.

**((A/N: Ew. This wasn't meant to be a cliffhanger but it kind of turned into one ^^' I'm really enjoying writing the characters like this! I hope it's not too cheesy and as always if you have any notes then please feel free to tell me them c: ))**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

_You're twenty-seven years old, you teach history, you own a mortgage, you're far too old to be doing this._

Munkustrap looked up at his younger brother's house and listened to the soft undertone of voices as he weighed up the reasons for and against showing up. He scratched his head and looked down the road, if he left now he could easily call his brother up later and say he'd got held up marking papers and it was obviously far too late to come but then he remembered how excited Tugger had been when he finally accepted one of the many invitations that his brother rang him up with. He'd only done it out of impulse, had never really thought about ever attending one of his brother's stupid parties until he found out who else would be attending. It was like Tugger had complied the guest list full of people he hadn't seen since they were teenagers, people he missed dearly, people he liked. In truth, he'd wanted to see his brother too, it had been a while since they'd gotten together and Tugger had always been his favourite brother even if he worried about him constantly.

Blue eyes met the concrete and hands played with each other, Munkustrap knew eventually that he'd get his act together and walk in and when he got over the first few minutes of anxiety and awkwardness the evening would be nice. It was just actually getting to the door. He felt guilty for not visiting his brother sooner, he felt too old to be out drinking when he really should be inside and planning lessons, he was worried about whether or not he'd left the iron on and he was fretting over whether or not he'd dressed appropriately in his jeans and shirt he ironed hastily before he left.

The door opened and blue eyes darted upwards, he didn't want to look like a weirdo stood there on his own, staring at the pavement. Stood in the light of the door was his little brother, Munkustrap forced a smile as the light hit his face and he realised he really didn't have a choice now.

"Hello stranger," came Tugger's voice, light and joking as always, "Can we help you?"

Munkustrap laughed a little, "Warm bed, food, water," he replied with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know about that," his brother said as he went out to meet him, "But we do have enough alcohol to last a fortnight and Quaxo's little sister bought some Monster Munch."

As he got closer, Munkustrap studied his little brother's face and felt himself wind down with relief. He looked the same, with his happy brown eyes and the toothy grin that both of them had inherited from their Father, he was afraid he'd get there and see the wisecracking showbiz Tugger that everyone else saw on morning television but this was his silly little brother and he was so happy to see him.

"Makes a change from beans on toast, at least," Munkustrap responded as he looked up as Tugger got closer, he remembered when he was taller than him bitterly and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his brother's lean frame.

"So are you planning on coming in any time soon?" the taller man said with his gleaming grin.

"I am, I was just making sure there wasn't anyone passed out on your front garden first," Munkustrap said with a smile, "Which I'm ridiculously jealous of by the way, terraced housing is crap."

Tugger clapped the other's shoulder amiably and walked him in, "You should see the inside. We have carpets and everything."

Munkustrap allowed himself to be led inside the house. It wasn't as rowdy as he expected, there was some soft music playing in the background, the main room was lit by candles and lamps and there were people dotted everywhere. There weren't as many people as he expected, no crowds to push through but just little groups of people sat on the couch or stood in the kitchen and the passage, each clutching a bottle of something. He listened half-heartedly as his brother spoke to him about decorating and insurance but mainly he looked around the room, trying to suss out exactly who he knew.

Alonzo was there and when he saw Munkustrap he waved at him excitedly but he was preoccupied talking to a blonde girl that Munkustrap didn't recognise. Tugger looked over and laughed,

"You'd better go over, Alonzo probably really wants to see you but you know what he's like when he sees a pretty girl. Plus," Tugger squinted a little, "I'm pretty sure that's Quaxo's little sister and my darling housemate is going to be really annoyed if he gets on too well with her."

So Munkustrap went over, Alonzo worked at the same college as he did and they saw each other every day but that didn't stop him from gleefully greeting him in a masculine hug.

"This is Victoria," his friend introduced the pretty blonde girl next to him, "She's my date for the evening."

"Um, excuse me. I didn't agree to this," her prim voice was indignant and she had manicured nails, while she sounded annoyed she was smiling. She nodded to Munkustrap and waved slightly, she had this likable presence about her, despite her clipped voice and all very perfect appearance.

"Quaxo's sister?" Munkustrap asked, remembering what his own brother had told him.

"You know my brother?" Victoria said, her smile growing on her face.

"I've only met him once or twice but he's a nice guy, my brother lives here with him."

Victoria raised her eyebrows a little, like she'd just been enlightened and she nodded at him like they were in on some joke. Alonzo had started to get bored of the attention not being on him and talked to Munkustrap about his encounters with Victoria at some little coffee shop. Victoria observed Munkustrap and thought back to Quaxo's explanation when they'd gotten there.

She'd arrived at the house about an hour ago with her room mate and immediately her brother had taken them both aside to explain exactly why he wanted them to come tonight.

"I thought it was meant to be a surprise?" Victoria had said with a playful grin, but her brother had dismissed her with a wave of a hand and a scrunched up nose.

"I don't want either of you getting drunk and making idiots out of yourselves before I tell you," the girls had started to object but he ignored them and carried on, "Listen to me. Vicky, sister of mine, a girl I work with is coming tonight and she's a pretty big deal dance-wise and I've told her stories about you and she really wants to meet you because she might have some work for an up and coming ballet dancer, such as yourself."

Victoria was excited, her brother told them about said guest and explained how she already knew Jemima so perhaps it would be an idea for the younger girl to get in there first to butter her up and then introduce her to Victoria when she felt the time was right.

"I'm being used," Jemima had teased with a grin before running over to the kitchen where Quaxo had said this big deal dancer was.

It wouldn't make sense for the smaller girl to be pulled into the party just to talk to whoever this woman was because Quaxo could have easily done that himself. Victoria looked at Munkustrap and felt herself get more and more quizzical. She knew that Jemima knew most of the people here because of her big family so at first Victoria guessed that maybe some of them wanted to see her so that was why Quaxo insisted she come but most of these people had seen Jemima since she'd moved to London, hell, some of them had invaded their flat before. So what wasn't her elder brother telling her and why was he so keen to have her room mate here? Perhaps he liked her?

Tugger walked over with said room mate and dance woman in tow, when Victoria caught his eye he pressed his finger to his lip and continued walking in their direction. Victoria looked over to Jemima who gave her a subtle thumbs up and she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She had every faith in her room mate and her brother but she was a little anxious, if this woman was as much of a big deal as Quaxo had said then she needed her to think that Victoria was worthwhile enough to give her work, to kickstart her career as a dancer. She thought that Tugger was coming over to introduce Victoria to this woman but instead he headed straight for his brother and tapped him on the shoulder as Jemima and the dancer stood back and to the side a little.

Victoria looked at them a little confusedly, Jemima wasn't talking to the girl and was instead trying to peer at who Tugger was talking to. The woman was laughing at her and patting her head. While Victoria was confused, she managed to take a second to appreciate how lovely the dance woman was and instantly felt more nervous about meeting her.

She was tall and looked a little older than her, her dark brown hair fell straight and looked slick and silky, her eyes were sharp and looked professionally shadowed but they scrunched slightly as she laughed, she wore a beige pencil skirt and a white button down shirt with killer heels that made her legs look longer and she had tan skin that looked smooth to the touch.

Jemima jumped a little before nudging the woman and pointing towards Victoria, she said something and the woman looked over too before nodding in agreement. Victoria felt her face flush a little as she quickly tried to look as though she was paying attention to the conversation between the boys. When she looked over again, Jemima was stood on her own and winking at her. The woman made her way over.

"Cassandra!" Alonzo was the first to greet her, she smiled at him as he kissed her cheek and wound his arm around her waist, "God, it's been a while."

"It has," her voice was soft and playful as she scanned the man's face, "Shame I didn't come over to see you. Though I'll expect you to walk me home later because there's no way I'll be driving," she raised her glass and the man started to laugh.

"Since when did you drink at these things?" he teased.

"Since Tugger started getting good wine and not Tesco's finest," she said before shooting a look at the host who was stood next to his brother and trying to pry him away. The stubbled man rolled his eyes but he was still grinning,

"Oh okay, Miss I'm too good for Tesco now that I'm on TV," Cassandra winked at him and turned away.

"Which is precisely why I've come over," she said quietly and her eyes fell on Victoria, "I've heard a lot about you, Miss."

Victoria tried to come across as confident and playful, she tried to come across as someone that Cassandra would associate with, but she ended up getting tongue tied and simply uttered, "Oh?"

"Yep. How about we get a drink, girly? I know Alonzo's probably talked your ear off but I'd really like to speak to you too."

The blonde grinned and nodded enthusiastically as Cassandra motioned for the kitchen. She followed her and as she past Jemima who was now stood with Quaxo who'd come over to keep her company, she mouthed her thanks.

Jemima smiled up at Quaxo. He'd become a good friend of hers since she'd moved to London, she enjoyed having him come over after work and lounge around in the living room with her and Victoria, she liked waking up to him spread out on her sofa whenever Tugger had irritated him to the point of him leaving and showing up in the middle of the night while she was sleeping. He was everything she liked about Victoria wrapped up in attractive man form and if she didn't think it would be crossing a few lines, she'd have made a move on him by now.

"Shame your cousin couldn't come," he said absently. Jemima raised her eyebrow and laughed a little at him. She kind of knew Quaxo before moving in with Victoria because he was in the English Literature class as her cousin back at university and her cousin, Electra, had got quite infatuation with him and introduced them over the phone when Jemima had rung her up. He was in the same social circle as her sisters too by default as he knew Tugger.

"She's got a boyfriend now," Jemima felt the need to say and Quaxo nodded, his eyes over at Tugger, "Anyway mission accomplished, I can go now, yeah?"

Quaxo looked down at her smiling face and shook his head a little, "You can if you want but I've been told that you won't want to."

Jemima laughed but peered at him quizzically, "Oh, won't I? Why's that?"

"No idea," he answered honestly, "To tell you the truth. It was Tugger's idea that you came too, maybe he wanted to see you?"

She knew Tugger before Quaxo, he was her sister's on and off boyfriend for quite some time and had always been sweet to her but there was no particular reason he'd want to see her unless it was something to do with one of her sisters. Oh God, she hoped they were okay. Worry burrowed into her chest and her eyebrows furrowed, noticing this, Quaxo put and arm around her and squeezed her gently.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious, he looked pretty happy when he asked me to invite you. I wouldn't worry about your sisters, worry about yourself, maybe he's decided that you've turned into a fine young lady and he wants to recruit you into his group of ladies that wait outside the studio for him everyday."

Jemima laughed but kept her eyes on Tugger. What could he want to do with her? Her answer came when he moved a little to the side, his arm slung over another man's shoulder, and pointed to her. The man stood next to him blinked over at her and she felt the worry in her chest fly out as soon as it came as she recognised him. She waved and he waved back, she heard Quaxo laugh beside her and say something, she took this as her dismissal and ran over to greet him.

Munkustrap laughed as Jemima ran over and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was older now, the last time he'd seen her she must have only been sixteen and was staying over at her sisters' house for the summer. They'd stayed in touch over social networking but it was so different from seeing her in the flesh. She _looked_ older now, with curves and make up and pretty hair. Far gone were the days when Munkustrap could look at her without noticing how much alike her sisters she was and hence how attractive she'd grown to be.

She was Demeter and Bombalurina's little sister and therefore a very present part of his life since he was eighteen, he'd babysat her when her sisters needed to work and she was left in their care, he'd chased off her first boyfriend when he broke up with her, he drove her home when she was left stranded and shoeless after a teenage house party.

"Hello stranger," Munkustrap murmured, mimicking Tugger's greeting to him and Jemima giggled.

"No one told me the elusive Munkustrap was showing up!" she joked, lowering herself down and taking her arms from around his neck, "It's been a while, where have you been?"

"I've been in London, a little farther from the center than you and my lovely little brother and a little closer to your lovely sisters actually, well the remaining one anyway," Munkustrap replied with a grin.

"Oh yeah, Demeter did say. Keep an eye on that one, okay? She's mental, especially since Bombalurina's all over the place doing her modelling thing."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Tugger smiled as his brother spoke to Jemima and saw him relax on the spot, he brushed past them both and wandered over to Quaxo whom was stood on his own now that Jemima had left him. The smaller tom looked up expectantly at his housemate and rolled his eyes as Tugger gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"So your brother fancies Jemima? Is that why you asked for her to come?"

"Not at all," Tugger replied as he watched Quaxo take a swig of his wine, "He fancied her older sister, was mad about her. Not the one I was going out with, Macavity's ex. He's been pining over her for a while and getting nowhere so I figured that if Jemima came and gave Demeter a good report of him then maybe it'd give him a head start. Also, I've missed the girl, she's a sweetheart isn't she?"

"She is and you've successfully exploited her, congratulations," Quaxo said dryly but with a small smile.

"So has your little sister, you should have heard her singing Victoria's praises in the kitchen. It was great."

**((A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! I tried to make sure it wasn't like I was trying to fit too much information into one chapter and I didn't want it to be those stereotypical house parties you see on films all the time where people are playing beer pong and there's blasting music ^^' Thanks to everyone who's reviewed too! I'm enjoying writing this, it's a nice break from essay writing for college c: ))**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

When Victoria woke up, she knew she wasn't in her own bed. She wasn't worried though because she could see her brother's jeans strewn over the top of a chair and she remembered staying the night there instead of braving the way home by foot since trains and buses had all stopped running by the time she'd stopped talking to Cassandra and started to talk to her brother and his friends.

She smiled a little as she remembered her conversation with Cassandra, the sleek and obviously sophisticated woman couldn't give her a _job_ but she'd be able to get her an audition and put a good word in for her. In a few weeks, Victoria could be a dancer for some TV singing show which meant she'd dance when they needed her and mainly in the background so it wasn't exactly the dream but she was prepared for baby steps. Hell, it was better than what she was up to now, which was absolutely nothing. Cassandra had said that if she was really good then she'd maybe recruit her for the show she was working on which was entirely dance based. Victoria felt her heart hammer in the hollows of her chest and she tried to stifle a squeal before it escaped her lips. She didn't want to get out of this bed, she wanted to spend the morning wrapped up in bedsheets and recounting her conversation with Cassandra.

She couldn't though, she knew she couldn't. She looked over at her brother's bed side clock and rolled her eyes at the '13:09' that glared back at her. Hoisting herself out of bed, Victoria felt her head go a little fuzzy and her stomach churn. She hadn't drunk much, she wanted to make sure she was coherent whilst speaking to Cassandra but when Cassandra left Victoria hung around with Quaxo and Tugger and felt the need to catch up with them. She hadn't gotten drunk but she remembered being a little disorientated when she clambered into the bed last night and now she felt off. Her stomach rumbled and she had a dry taste in her mouth, quickly, she decided to go downstairs and convince Jemima to go and get food with her before they went home.

She'd expected her brother to be waiting for her, ready to make fun of her for sleeping late, but there was only Jemima who was still curled up and sleeping on the sofa and Munkustrap who was sat adjacent to her. The two of them looked quite sweet, actually, Jemima was in Munkustrap's shirt and her tights and Munkustrap had one hand in her hair and the other wrapped around a cup of coffee with a newspaper perched on his lap.

"Oh," Victoria said, feeling awkward having walked in on them and disrupted the intimacy of the scene, "I'm sorry."

Munkustrap looked up at her and flashed this great smile, all teeth and crinkly eyes, "Don't be. Just woken up?"

_Jesus, he's friendly_, Victoria thought as she walked further into the room and returned his smile. Now it was light, the room didn't seem as welcoming as it did before. It was very minimalistic, with white walls and two black leather sofas, there was a poster of some old rock band that she'd never heard of on the wall but it was framed so there were no loose edges to contaminate the neatness of the place. She'd probably have liked it more before she moved in with Jemima and got used to organised messes and patterned arm chairs. The girl sat on the opposite sofa, still smiling.

"Yep, I promise I'm never this lazy," she nodded at Jemima, "And neither is she, though she's made herself very comfortable with your shirt."

Munkustrap chuckled a little, his hand was still in her hair, "She was moving around all night because she couldn't get comfortable in her dress so I just chucked my shirt at her in the end. I could her hear from there," he said and gestured to the couch Victoria was sat on with the hand that held his coffee.

"My brother said he was going to sleep here," she said patting the couch, "I wonder where he slept instead."

"With my brother, I think," Munkustrap said, his toothy grin turning wry, "Do you think we should expect a happy announcement?"

Victoria giggled, "God no. Quaxo and Tugger? No offence, your brother drives him up the wall."

"My brother drives me up the wall, it's a Tugger trait," Munkustrap replied with a grin, "Speaking of those two. They went out about twenty minutes ago to get stuff for breakfast, I think you're expected to stay and be fed."

"Joy," Victoria smiled a little as she watched the man opposite.

He was pretty attractive, she supposed, he had lovely silvery-blond hair and kind blue eyes. She watched his jaw as he took a gulp of coffee, it was one of his strongest features besides his arms and broad shoulders, she'd been trying very hard not to look at his exposed torso but couldn't help but appreciate the curve of his arms and the lines on his abs. He must have seen her looking because when he'd finished his gulp he jumped slightly and said,

"I'm sorry. Would you like a coffee? Tea? Anything?" Victoria smile a little.

"I can get to it, don't worry," he shook his head and placed his mug on a little table next to the sofa before standing up, his hand slowly unwinding itself from Jemima's hair as he did. The sleeping girl's smile flickered a little as he clapped his hands,

"What do you want?" he asked her with that friendly grin.

"Tea, if you're really that keen," Victoria said playfully as she tucked her feet beneath her and got comfortable on the sofa.

He walked into the kitchen that lay next to the living room with an open door separating them, when he flicked on the kettle it made that boiling noise and stirred Jemima, who had already been disrupted by the man's clap, from her sleep. The younger girl blinked a little confusedly at Victoria, her gentle brown eyes bleary with sleep, and slowly uncurled her body.

"Morning," Victoria giggled.

Jemima picked at the shirt she was wearing in place of her dress, "Morning. Where'd my clothes go?"

"In the corner," Victoria said and nodded to where her dress had been folded neatly with her shoes placed alongside them.

"Cool," Jemima yawned, "How did it go with Cassandra? She's great, isn't she?"

The blonde smiled as she recounted her talk with Cassandra, "She's incredibly great, she said she could get me an audition."

"Wow, incredibly great," Jemima nodded and pulled her knees to her chest, "And you'll pass that. I've seen you doing your pointy toe thing, it's great."

Victoria laughed a little at her friend's tired face as Munkustrap came in the room, his hands full with two cups of tea and his face filled with a smile.

"I thought I heard you," he said and nodded to Jemima, "So I made you tea with too much sugar, I guessed you'd still take it the same."

"You know me too well, Mister," Jemima grinned as he came closer and handed the two girls their drinks. Munkustrap sat where he was before he'd gone out to the kitchen, his hand that was wrapped in her hair fell limp at his side and the other went back to his nearly empry cup of coffee.

"We were just talking about how great Cassandra is," the dark haired girl said and nodded at Victoria.

"She's looking well, isn't she?" Munkustrap nodded, "Alonzo wouldn't shut up about her."

"Bless," Jemima grinned, "I didn't know you knew Alonzo, 'Toria."

"He's the one who shows up every morning, orders a coffee, flirts and leaves," Victoria said with a fond smile, "He's great too."

Munkustrap grinned, "Ah, so that makes you pretty coffee girl. He talks about you in work all the time."

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Cassandra was a thing of exotic beauty. The way she was already up, showered and walking around in one of his old shirts with her damp hair dripping slightly like she owned the place made him smile. He admired the curve of her hips and the length of her legs as she dried her hair with one of his towels in the mirror on his wardrobe. She was bare faced now, her lips weren't rouged and her eyes weren't shadowed but she was still so gorgeous with her tan skin and her high cheekbones.

He sat up slowly so not to disturb her and watched her for a little while before she caught sight of him in the mirror and turned quickly on her heel so she could face him.

Alonzo was a creature of handsome masculinity. He was sat straight, the blanket snaked around his hips and his back pressed against the head board. He was brushing his tousled hair back and a crooked smile was on his face and when he breathed his chest moved up and down. He was far too pretty to be a teacher. Cassandra stopped drying her hair and shrugged a little, a guilty smile tugging at her lips.

"Sorry, I was going to crawl back in when I was done, I didn't think about you waking up before I was done." He shook his head, the crooked smile not shifting from his face.

"Don't be. You can crawl in now," he said with a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and gestured to her hair, "I'm all wet."

"I don't mind."

She stood still for a minute letting the damp towel drop from her fingers, she crawled up the length of the bed before reaching the pretty man who held his arms out for her. She kept his eyes on his before resting her head on his chest and curling up on his lap, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his hands in the small of her back. She felt him sigh, his chest heaving before falling back to it's original state.

"I've missed you, Cassie," she smiled a little at that. His voice was sincere, they'd never been in an exclusive relationship but staying the night together was not unusual, well, not up until recently when the two found they were both too busy to meet up any more. Not until Cassandra had said that she was too involved at work to come to lunches and when Alonzo said that he was too tired to meet up in the evenings. She'd missed him too, she never understood why they never reached their full potential in their relationship, they could have been great.

_Still could be,_ she thought as she pulled back and brought her face up to his so she could look at his crooked smile and brown eyes. His hands were rubbing at her back, like she was a child and he was comforting her, she felt enveloped in safety and it was all seemed so easy even though she knew having a relationship with Alonzo, second only to Tugger in the slut leagues, would be anything but easy.

"How does it always come to this?" she said with a smile, "Why do I keep coming back to this crappy teacher flat and stealing your shirts?"

"Because I'm just so damn pretty," he replied, chuckling as she slapped his chest feebly and catching her hand with his own. She looked down at their hands and smiled a little as their fingers entwined, sand on caramel skin.

"Well your pretty self slept the day away, I was afraid that you wouldn't wake up and I'd have to go," she said, biting her lip slightly as she chuckled under her breath.

"Who says you have to go?" she blinked up at him, his eyebrows were laced together now but he was still smiling, "I mean, you won't be working tomorrow right? It's Sunday tomorrow. I can make food, we can chill out on the sofa, watch bad television and then maybe a bath later. You don't have to go."

She sighed a little, "Sounds tempting but you know I can't just spend another night in your shirt, I need to brush my teeth and change my underwear, I need to go home and make sure my house remembers my name..."

"You can stay, I can go run down the corner shop and get you a toothbrush, you can borrow my underwear and I'm sure your house won't miss you as much as I will."

"'Lonzo," she murmured a little but he cut her off with a quick peck on her cheek.

"I won't complain if you tell me now that you really don't want to stay here with me but if you do then please don't leave, I miss you Cassie."

She looked at him, her eyes scanning over each of his pretty features; those eyelashes that were too long for his brown eyes, the warmth to his complexion, his white teeth and his dimpled chin. She knew that if she stayed tonight it would be harder to leave tomorrow, she knew that she'd be behind on work if she spent another night away from her study, she knew that she'd want them to be more if she watched bad television, ate, bathed and slept with him tonight. It wasn't sensible. She should say no.

"Damn you Alonzo," she murmured, "You get your ass to the kitchen and get the coffee brewing and I might think about it."

He kissed her, she felt that he was smiling while he was kissing her and in turn this made her smile. They both knew that she'd be staying.

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It was late now; outside the sky was that deep navy blue it goes before getting pitch black and the street lamps were on, if you looked outside you'd see that it was cold from the way that people were walking with their collars turned up and their hands stuffed into their pockets.

Jemima was happy to be home, in her own little chair and her pyjamas on. They'd spent two hours of the afternoon at Quaxo's, eating toast and bagels and drinking tea and orange juice. On her way home with her room mate they'd stopped to pick up a drink from the little coffee shop that Victoria worked at which was bizzarely empty for a Saturday. Rumpleteazer had laughed at their sleepy expressions and made their drinks as loudly as she possibly could to upset Victoria's now aching head. When they got home, they took it in turns to bath and once she was clean and comfortable in flannel pyjamas, Jemima made a beeline for her chair. Ah that chair, with it's embroidered birds and flowers. Victoria had put some mundane television on as background noise as both read amiably, little smiles on their faces.

"This is nice," Jemima commented, "I love my chair and pyjamas. They're the best."

Victoria chuckled and turned a page of her magazine as Jemima held her book a little away from her face, the blonde had tied her hair up in her normal bun and dressed in her pyjamas to match her room mate even though she'd laughed at Jemima when the dark haired girl surfaced from her room clad in flannel sheep.

"This is nice," Victoria agreed, "Though last night was nice too. Cassandra was great and Munkustrap seems really sweet too."

"He is very sweet," Jemima concluded with a grin.

Victoria had wanted to ask her friend about the man since she walked in on him with his hand in her hair this morning. They seemed very close, not that there was anything the matter with that, it was just that Jemima had never really mentioned him before but then again, Jemima never really mentioned much about her life before London. She bit her lip, Jemima wasn't a closed person but maybe it'd be overstepping the line asking her about this man that she knew very little about. Victoria looked at the younger over her magazine and regarded her with an uncertain look before finally deciding to get it over with.

"So are you two like... A thing?" Jemima blinked at her in surprise, "Sorry, was that too much?"

She began to laugh as Victoria babbled slightly and held up her hand, "It's okay, 'Toria. We're not a thing, he's a family friend. He's actually head over heels in love with my older sister, so I guess it'd be a bit awkward if we were a thing."

"Oh," Victoria started to laugh a little too.

"Tugger was actually head over heels for my other sister once too, frankly, it all seems very incestuous to me," Jemima grinned, sensing that Victoria was still feeling a little awkward and wanting to make her feel a little more at ease.

"Oh gosh," the blonde laughed harder, Jemima watched with relief as she started to get more comfortable. She knew a lot about Victoria, how she'd been bought up in the country with her banker Father, dancer Mother and magician brother. How her Uncle, who was some politician around London, frequently sent her some money to ensure she was getting by okay because he had far too much of it and only spent it on food, he also had been inviting her to dinners since she was thirteen and trying to marry her off to some other politician's son since she was fifteen. Victoria barely knew anything about Jemima because Jemima hadn't really wanted to tell her. It wasn't an awfully tragic story or even that difficult it was just so different from Victoria's, plus, her room mate had never asked so it seemed pointless to talk about it anyway.

Victoria stretched a little bit, her eyes still on Jemima who looked back at her with a little smile. The two were close now, it had only been a month of cohabitation and Victoria felt as though she could tell Jemima anything and not worry about her being judged. It was refreshing, when she was younger all she'd experienced from friendships with girls her own age was speaking when she was meant to and hoping desperately that she was liked. She didn't need to worry about whether Jemima liked her because Jemima liked everyone, she endorsed Victoria's occasional silliness and sat and listened when Victoria needed her to. So why did Victoria know so little about her room mate's life before London? She knew the basics, that Jemima had two sisters, that she counted Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer as her siblings and that there was another cousin she was close to who was about Victoria's age. She wanted to know, she just felt rude asking. The blonde stood quickly and walked to the kitchen, her bare feet slapping the floor as she did.

"I propose horrible take out food and a film," she called as she tried to find the local Chinese food place's flier in the kitchen, her lips broke out into a smile as the younger girl's laughter chirped from the other room.

"Sounds good, let's ruin that dancer physique of yours with over priced grease."

**((A/N: There we go, new chapter! I like writing the characters as humans and I'm glad to see that people are enjoying it too c: Thank you to everyone that has been reviewing, it really does make my day!))**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

Victoria's day was good.

She had a late start at work which meant she took as much time as she wanted in an indulgent shower. She made eggs for her and her room mate who was rushing around trying to comb her hair with her fingers and phone in late for work and then when she had an hour to kill before walking to the café, she curled up on the sofa and watched breakfast television, smiling as Tugger's face flashed on the screen as he spoke animatedly about who was sleeping with who.

Then when she got to work, she was greeted by a nearly empty café and Rumpleteazer who gave her a cheeky wink before serving an old lady who seemed incredibly put off by the café regulars, especially the man in the corner with tattoos leaking onto his face. The hours went by slowly but calmly, there was no clamouring for utensils or dodging each other as they tried to make orders, Victoria could actually talk to her colleague and not feel like she was slacking.

"I love Tuesdays," the ginger girl sighed, taking a leisurely bite from an energy bar she'd put on her tab, "They're the best days. Barely any people, no teenagers because they're all at school, no Monday rush to get a cup of coffee. Just great."

Victoria giggled at her, leaning on the counter and doodling flowers and pointe shoes on her little order note pad, she was about to agree with her companion but a deep, throaty chuckle cut her off and made her stand up straight, partly due to surprise and partly to seem as though she wasn't slacking.

"I feel like I shouldn't order, you both look so relaxed."

Victoria would have usually found that comment stupidly patronising and would have willed her to be a bitch when serving but it was said with such a timid playfulness so she felt the need to smile slightly at this new customer and jump straight to serving him. It also went in his favour that he was very attractive.

This customer stood around about six foot five, he had broad shoulders and muscular arms. His jaw was strong and his cheekbones high but he had this boyish quality to his face, perhaps it was his wry grin and uncertain pucker of his brow. His eyes were dark, almost black, framed by eyelashes that were too long for them and his lips were thin. He had rusty brown hair that he kept playing with, it looked fluffy, like that wonderful texture that boys get when the grow their hair out a little more than they usually would.

"Sorry about that," she said, her voice wavering with light giggles as she tore the doodles from her notepad, "How may I help you?"

The customer shrugged and scratched the back of his head, "I'm a bit of a beginner when it comes to extravagant coffee, I usually just stick to one pound fifty instant crap. What would you suggest?"

That made Victoria even more fond of him, she couldn't stand it when she got café connoisseurs who lectured her on the art of coffee construction, she flashed him her dimpled smile and leaned forward ever so slightly on the counter.

"Don't tell anyone but I hate coffee, I'm more of a tea fan but if you're a beginner I'd say it's best to start off with a basic cappuccino as we have our best cappuccino maker on hand today," she said nodding to the ginger in the background who was brushing crumbs from her hands onto her apron.

The customer laughed again, he had a really pretty laugh, "Your secret is safe with me, whatever you suggest. Though, I don't know if I should trust you now that I know you're a coffee fraud."

She pencilled down his order, shaking her head a little as she giggled, "Okay sir, if you'd like to take a seat and this coffee fraud will bring your drink over in a second."

He grinned and took the seat furthest from the counter, smiling cheekily as if he knew that she'd have to make a long trip over, and Rumpleteazer gave the blonde a little nudge with her hip.

"Shameless flirting on the job. I thought better of you, young lady," Victoria rolled her eyes a little but her cheeks flushed.

"I'm simply easing his transition to the pretentious coffee life, okay?" Rumpleteazer winked at her and started to make the handsome customer his drink while Victoria found a blank page in her notepad and proceeded to doodle as she felt the man's eyes on her and pretended as though she was blissfully unaware. When Rumpleteazer had finished, she handed Victoria the drink and patted her on the backside before whispering,

"Off you go, you minx."

Victoria gave her a playful glare before walking over to the customer, he was reading at this point and only looked up at her when she placed the mug on the table.

"Enjoy," she said with a smile and turned to leave, she felt his hand on her wrist and she turned back sharply, confusion etched into every feature of her lovely face.

"You can't leave now" he said with a grin, releasing her hand, "I'm trying my first cappuccino, this is a momentous occasion and I need someone to bear witness."

She raised a perfectly manicured brow at him but stayed put anyway, a smile tickling at the edges of her lips. He kept his eyes on her face as he took a sip, his eyebrows raised a little and he made an appreciative grunt as he placed the mug down again, revealing a cappuccino foam moustache on his upper lip.

"It's good," he concluded. Victoria laughed at his frothy lip and her giggles only grew louder as he stared bewildered at her. She finally motioned to her own lip and he got the picture, laughing slightly but a light pink coloured his face. The blonde wiped a tear from her eye and clapped her hands,

"Well this was fun. Enjoy the rest of your drink, Mister," she teased and walked away from him this time, he laughed after her and made some joke that she couldn't hear.

He took about ten minutes to drink the rest of his drink before lining up again behind some small girl with glasses too large for her face and synthetic orange curls. When he got to the front, Victoria blinked at him in surprise before turning to a fresh page in her pad,

"Another? They're not that good," she joked.

"I was actually wondering what your name was," he said, his voice was smooth but she could see his leg shaking a little, preparing her for what was happening. She pointed to her name badge and he rolled his eyes at himself,

"Ah, could have seen that sooner. I'm Plato."

She laughed again, she seemed to be laughing a lot with him. Victoria was a hopeless romantic, she read stories about couples meeting in book shops and watched films where a Hollywood starlet would kiss a typically handsome male lead in the rain. She was well versed in the art of dating, she was the most experienced and one of the prettiest in her all girls school and while her relationships never reached over a few months, she'd learned all she needed to from them. So, she knew by the way he was desperately trying to maintain eye contact and by the way he was trembling slightly what was on his mind and she was more than happy to comply with it. London was full of men and some of them had taken a fancy to her but he was so cute, with his boyish smiles and his shaky leg.

"I was wondering, Victoria, if you'd like to get together sometime when you've hung up your apron and ended your façade as a coffee enthusiast."

"Well while it'd be incredibly unprofessional of me to accept that right now as I'm working, in twenty minutes I'll be on my break and then I might agree to lunch on Thursday around about two o'clock," she said softly, ignoring the persistent laughter from Rumpleteazer who'd been eavesdropping.

"And if I were to suggest meeting outside here before making our way to town?" he tried, his back straightening slightly with new found confidence.

"I'd maybe say that I'd be there."

The rest of her shift, she put up with Rumpleteazer's merciless teasing but felt herself get more and more excited. It'd been so long since she'd been out with a male that wasn't her brother or one of her brother's friends and she found herself planning her 'I barely made an effort but I can still look attractive' outfit in her head as she hung up her apron at closing time and walked out of the door with confident strides. Halfway through her little walk home, she felt her phone vibrate in her coat pocket and she examined the unknown number before answering uncertainly, her clipped accent ever present as she spoke.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hello Victoria, it's Cassandra. We spoke the other night?"

Victoria literally stopped in her tracks, her smile stretched and almost hit her eyes, "Oh! Hello Cassandra, I remember."

Of course she remembered, the beautiful woman with the job offer, she felt herself vibrate with excitement. No way was this happening, she couldn't have been hit on by an attractive man and then phoned up by this job-offering angel.

"I spoke to some creative producers and execs and generally boring people today and they told me about this group audition they'll be doing in a few weeks. If you could email me some head shots and your show reel then I could get to work at scoring you a place. How does that sound?"

Victoria repressed a girlish squeal, "Sounds great," she said, her voice squeaking slightly despite her efforts at keeping it level.

The woman on the other side laughed lightly, "I did give you my email, right?"

"Yes," Victoria replied perhaps a little too quickly.

"Good, well take care and I'll give you a call if anything happens."

"Sounds good," Victoria said, her voice finally calming itself, "Take care, thanks again Cassandra."

The woman said her goodbye and the phone clicked off. The blonde had to take a few moments to compose herself before letting out the squeal that had been trying to make it's way from her lips since she realised who she was talking to. She practically skipped on her way home, her enthusiasm fuelled by how great her day had been and by the thought of her room mate waiting for her at home with a cup of tea and some honey on toast.

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Jemima's day had been terrible. Terrible being an extreme understatement that she would later use to describe her day so other people wouldn't be made to feel uncomfortable by the sheer awfulness of how it actually had been.

She'd woke late meaning she didn't have time to shower, to do her usual workout or to even brush her hair properly. She put on her work uniform as she brushed her teeth, ate the eggs Victoria made her while she laced up her shoes and made up her face on the ten minute bus ride into the city. She'd rang in late for work earlier, spinning a tale about how she'd been held up at the Doctor's (she hadn't clarified why she was at the Doctor's since there really wasn't any reason for her to be there) but judging from her manager's voice she wasn't going to be getting off lightly. When she arrived, the place was mainly empty too as it was early enough so people had no need for lunch and late enough that people had already gotten breakfast. She clocked in, only ten minutes later than she was supposed to, and got to work immediately.

Twenty minutes into her shift, she was called into the staff room by her manager. She thought up a long-winded apology as she made her way in her ugly work shoes that squeaked lightly when she walked. He was waiting for her with an almost pained expression on his face, his arms crossed and his hat slightly lopsided. Jemima shot him her best smile, the type that reached her eyes and filled most of her face but this only served to make him seem more uncomfortable.

"Please say you've brought your leaflet," he said gently, her dumbstruck expression was enough to make him sigh and remove his hat as realisation hit her like an unwelcome wave and anxiety started to tug on her hair like a petulant child. Having only worked there for a little over a month, she was still in her probationary period so she was required to attend regular progress meetings and go over things she'd learned on the job using this leaflet that she filled in weekly, the leaflet that she'd left on her bedside table after filling it out the night before after she recalled that she'd be having her progress meeting the following day.

"I'm so sorry," she said, trying to stop her face from crumpling or her voice from wavering. If it had been any other job, she'd have apologised, proposed a solution and gotten on with it but this place was so competitive. They took on around about fifteen newcomers at a time and under half of those continued on to work after the probationary period and it was seeming very unlikely that Jemima would be one of the few who did.

The manager sighed, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward slightly, "So am I, kid. You're a good worker and if it were up to me, I'd give you a warning and send you back to work."

He paused and she felt tears spring to her eyes. She didn't like the job, hell, she really disliked working with fryers and picky customers but she needed any form of payment to help her keep her side of the rent up, the money she'd saved up since she was sixteen wasn't going to last forever.

"But it's not up to me, it's up to the big guy who's too chickenshi- who felt it more appropriate that this was handled by your line manager," he continued, smiling a little as she gave him a weak giggle, "So, unfortunately, the company sees grounds to terminate your position here due to lack of punctuality and inability to prepare accordingly for company requirements. You are entitled to full pay for shifts you have taken that have not yet been paid but you are not entitled to finish the shift you are currently on. Do you understand?"

Jemima gave a short nod, a tear trickled down her cheek and she batted it away quickly before forcing a smile, "Thanks for having me," she whispered, figuring that she may as well get a good reference from her line manager if she needed it.

"You've been a pleasure," he said sincerely, his hand going out and lightly touching hers, an action that was meant to be comforting but Jemima didn't want him touching her especially after having fired her, "And you'll get something soon, kid, you see."

She nodded again before standing up and leaving, she didn't bother saying goodbye to her colleagues since she didn't want to make a big fuss of her going. Instead, she changed into the spare clothes she'd packed in her bag the night before in the employee changing room, handed her uniform back to her line manager that was still in the staff room with his head in his hands and clocked out for the last time.

Outside it was cold, kind of brisk, as she walked aimlessly around the town centre, glancing every now and then to see if there were any 'help wanted' signs dotted around or in shop windows. She'd have to find another job soon, she knew she could always ask her sisters for help or her auntie and uncle but when she moved to London she made up her mind that she'd try not to depend on anyone else financially, she wanted to be a real grown up which meant picking up the pieces when things went wrong for her. She knew she didn't have time to mope but at the same time she felt herself feel more and more disheartened as she wandered around and finally she resolved on getting a tea before heading home.

Her day picked up slightly when her server making her tea winked at her and encircled her name on the mug he'd put her drink in with little stars and a kiss. She walked out of the shop with a little smile, hell, she was going to be broke and jobless but at least men making her tea flirted with her a little. As soon as she started to feel optimistic, planning on how she'd get home and get straight onto job websites, she felt someone barge into her which resulted in her spilling scalding tea down some of her arm and her front, the assailant winced from the tea too as she must have caught them with it.

"Sorry," she started to say, although she knew it was the fault of the clumsy person who was currently picking at their shirt and cursing under his breath.

"For fuck sake," he mumbled, "Do you always carry boiling hot weapons with you? Or was it just today to ruin my shirt?"

She blinked up at him incredulously, he was a whole head taller than her and while she didn't focus much on his face she thought about how satisfying it would be to serve a punch to it.

"Excuse me?" she asked, "But you... You barged into me, Mister!"

She sounded like a child, how she would have killed for a sultry voice like her sisters or a clipped accent like Victoria's at that moment, instead she just sounded like a toddler whining when their toy is taken from them. The guy picked up on this too and he raised his eyebrow at her, a wry smile playing at his lips.

"Mister?" he teased slightly, "Did you really just call me Mister? Sorry, Mum."

She blinked, her mouth agape and went to say something when another man ran over, clipping the now damp assailant on the shoulder and chuckling. They looked similar, the one that was draped in Jemima's tea was smaller and with darker hair but otherwise they were incredibly alike.

"Pouncival, what have you done now?" the new guy looked down at Jemima, "Is he bothering you?"

"I'm the one covered in her fucking tea," the annoying one, Pouncival, said with a grin. Jemima was not in the mood, she simply shot them both an uncertain smile before making her way past and to the bus station.

"You're lucky you're pretty, klutz!" the annoying one yelled after her, making her pick up pace as she tried to walk in a way that didn't make her shirt stick to her uncomfortably.

When she got home, earlier than her room mate as usual, she got into the shower and into an oversized shirt before lazily perching in her arm chair with Breakfast at Tiffany's, the DVD she'd watched to death, playing in the background and her hair hanging loose and damply down her back.

Victoria got home just as Holly Golightly chucked the cat out of the cab, she dumped her bag at the door and hung her coat up, her voice flooded the room like music as she joked about why the kettle wasn't on.

"I have a date," she cried too as she fiddled with her scarf at the door, "With an extremely handsome customer, I'll see if he has a suitable brother, eh?"

Jemima gave an obligatory giggle but as Victoria came further into the room and caught sight of her pensive figure crouched in her arm chair with her thumbnail placed lightly in her mouth she made her way to the kitchen and turned on the kettle straight away and loaded the toaster with bread and got the honey out of the cupboard.

Jemima appreciated Victoria, she truly did, she was like a big sister but without any of the 'Mama knows best' attitude. When the blonde emerged from the kitchen, two cups of tea in one hand and a plate of copious amounts of honey on toast, Jemima almost cried there and then. Her day had been terrible, she joked as she took a sip of the tea she'd just thanked Victoria for, and God it was good to be home with her sweet room mate. Victoria grabbed her own arm chair and brought it closer to her best friend's and they ate amiably, neither of them mentioning why the dark-haired girl had been hunched in her chair looking so forlorn with Audrey Hepburn crying in the background. That could be addressed later, after they finished their tea and toast with honey.

**((A/N: Anyone have any films that cheers them up when they're sad? For some reason I thought of Breakfast at Tiffany's for Jemima, perhaps because its one of my own personal favourites. Again, I appreciate every review and critique is welcomed!))**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

"_Excuse me whilst I cry over my psychology degree"_

Bombalurina gave her famous half-smile as she made her eyes look sultry and sucked in her cheeks slightly, though she didn't know why she bothered, they'd trim her face down enough later on whilst adjusting her hair to look two shades redder and the blue in her eyes more striking. When she was younger she was always told that she'd make a great model because, frankly speaking, she was gorgeous. She gained curves almost instantly when she turned thirteen and she had this way of looking at you that either made you feel like the most special person in the world or the worst. When in front of the camera, it was her job to make everyone feel inferior to her beauty and she felt uncomfortable thinking about young girls who'd look at her photo and aspire to look like her, because really she didn't even look like the Bombalurina in the photo, that Bombalurina was a mirage built from photo editing software and good lighting.

She'd never wanted to be a model, she wanted to be a child psychologist but eventually student fees caught up with her and she was given the opportunity to take some photos for a lingerie store after she was spotted by a bespectacled woman in her local shopping centre, naturally, she said yes. Now she was one of the most famous British models that had surfaced in the past five years, she'd started when she was twenty and now eight years later she was still posing in big designer ads and walking down runways during fashion week. She was the 'busty redhead', the 'real-life Jessica Rabbit', pretty far stretches from the acclaimed child psychologist she studied to become for six years alongside her modelling.

Her photographer finally put his camera down, smiled and kissed her on both cheeks before letting her go back to change and go home, or back to the hotel at least. She was in Morocco right now, hidden from the sun under copious amounts of sun block and a large hat as her ivory skin was one of her main 'selling points', and it was beautiful but every time she crept back into her hotel room after working or socialising, occasionally with a play mate for the night, she felt her phone burn in her pocket and she didn't feel satisfied until she scrolled through pictures of her and her family and friends. Most of the pictures were taken in Britain, lovely, dreary old Britain with it's overcast weather and harsh winds.

After Morocco she was to go to New York to take some photos for a deal she did with some designer then to Seoul to take part in some 'beauty exchange' where she'd get painted by Korean make up artists and dressed by Korean designers and after that she was off to Paris to film some promotional thing for another designer. She loved travelling when she first started but now she missed staying home, tucked under a blanket, wearing pyjamas and watching bad murder mysteries.

She flicked through her phone now as she sat in the back seat of the car that was sent for her, she smiled as familiar faces flashed on her screen, now and again she'd hover over a photo and remember where it was taken fondly. She then reached a photo of her and her sisters, toddler Jemima sandwiched between pre-teen Demeter and teenage Bombalurina, and her chest tightened as she looked into the image's childish faces. She remembered when they were both so little and she felt tears spring to her eyes.

Besides wanting to be home, enveloped in blankets and chilly weather, she wanted to be a Mother. It was what she wanted, what she'd always wanted. She wanted to cradle a little person in her arms and know that they were _hers,_ she pictured them with her pretty blue eyes and her fiery hair, they'd huddle into her chest and sleep next to her in her bed and when they did something clever or funny she'd ring up her sisters or maybe look up into the face of the Father as if to say, "Can you believe it? Can you believe we made this?"

"Miss, we're here," came the driver's voice, she looked up from her phone and smiled at him before taking a few notes from her purse and thrusting it in his direction.

"Very generous, Miss," he mumbled as he took the notes, eyeing them as if they were the greatest present he had been given, "Miss, thank you."

Bombalurina walked out of the car and up into her hotel room, she took off her heels and jumped onto the white sheets of her bed and stared up at her ceiling fan. She was meant to be going out for a social dinner tonight but suddenly she didn't feel up to getting showered, changed and made up. She wanted to imagine her baby, the baby she'd buy cute tea dresses or dungarees for, the baby that Demeter would feed and dance with, the baby Jemima would sing to and make up stories for. Her baby.

Bombalurina had always been the Mother to her sisters and to her own Mother most of the time. She was the one that taught Jemima how to read, she was the one that walked Demeter to school, she was the one that helped her Mother into bed when she couldn't make it up the stairs after staying out all night. And then when she was sixteen, the summer she left school and got her GCSE results, her Mother died and she became the real Mother of the family. Of course, they lived with their Aunt Jenny until they were old enough to move out, but Bombalurina went to the parent's evenings, she helped Demeter revise, she made Jemima's packed lunches. Not because Jenny wouldn't but because Bombalurina liked being Mum and she was so much better at it than their deceased Mother, although the poor woman tried her best.

She thought of her sisters, as she often did and tried to swallow her maternal concern. With Jemima living in London, so far away from Auntie Jenny and Uncle Skimble, and studying to become the next Primadonna. Demeter living in the house that they shared when Bombalurina was in the UK, working at a publishing firm, surrounded by new author's works on little piles of paper. She wanted them there with her, wanted to be there with them, wanted them to be young again. However, time is not so kind and she had to get ready to party the night away with stick-figure models, publicists and photographers.

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"My hair is useless. It's useless hair. Help it."

Jemima looked up through her eyelashes at the blonde girl clad in a floral dress and sheer tights that made her dancers legs look longer than ever, her eyebrows twitched slightly in frustration and she was holding a curling tong as if it was about to grow teeth and maul her to death. Jemima giggled and sat up before patting the floor in front of her with her foot so Victoria walked over excitedly and sat there, handing her room-mate the tong as she did.

"You have great hair, shut up," the younger girl scalded since Victoria really did have great hair, all fluffy and white, like snow. She slid her fingers through it, her nails newly painted as an act of rebellion against her old job that didn't allow nail polish, before getting to work. Blonde waves became blonde curls and great hair became sexy hair that Plato would later run his hands through while they shared a second goodbye kiss outside Victoria's flat.

"Are you excited?" Jemima said after Victoria stood to look at her newly-done hair in the mirror, tousling it here and there when she saw fit. The older girl's lips split into a smile and she nodded enthusiastically before turning on her heel.

"You know, I really am," she replied, her grin filling her face and her dimples more prominent than Jemima had ever seen before, "I don't know, he was just a big sweetheart and it's been so long since I've been on a date. Although, does lunch count as a date? A date's usually dinner, isn't it? Oh God, Jemima, is this a date or a business meeting?"

An elfin grin spread across Jemima's face, "Have you packed your credentials?"

A pillow flew across the room and hit the same grin off her face, Victoria smiled triumphantly before checking her watch and giving out an excited squeal,

"I have five minutes before I need to set off, make me a cup of tea and I'll forgive you for your merciless sarcasm, you little minx."

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"You can't be serious," he said incredulously, holding the phone close to his ear in one hand and pinching his nose with the fingertips of his free one. He heard a nervous chuckle on the line but he knew whatever she said next would only serve to make him angrier so he didn't care to listen to the long-winded apology, the excuses, that followed. When the buzz of her voice died down, that beautiful voice, he sighed and plastered on a false smile though she couldn't see it, what mattered was that he knew he was being as pleasant as he could possibly be in this situation.

"Please don't do this," he said, his voice bright despite how he was pleading shamelessly. She apologised again, this time simply muttering her 'sorry' but he knew that there was nothing he could do. He wanted to tell her that she was worth so much more than what she was giving herself up for, so much more than what she was getting herself into but they were words that he'd already said to her, words that she hadn't taken seriously when she dismissed his confession of affection to her when she'd first decided to leave the road she was just about to return to.

"Yeah. Yeah okay, I understand," he mumbled, "Goodbye."

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Victoria really was gorgeous.

Plato watched her as she walked towards him, giving a small wave as she did. Though, she didn't walk like normal people, her movements were far more fluid, it was as if she permanently walked on her toes but she pulled it off with this effortless grace that was so endearing he noticed others shooting her looks as she greeted him with a warm smile. She looked prettier out of the black clothes that she shrouded herself in at work, the flowers on her skirt brought out the rosiness of her cheeks and her porcelain skin seemed to glow. Her hair, that had been tied back when he first met her, fell in gentle curls that he wanted to burrow his face into and her smile was literally one of the most attractive things he'd seen, all dimples and white teeth.

"Hello you," she said in that posh tone of voice that made him feel slightly inferior to her. He smiled bashfully and held out his arm, trying to maintain his cool in front of her.

"Hello," he replied, "I thought we'd go for a walk before lunch, does that sound good to you?"

She took his arm with a small giggle, "Sounds great. Where are we going?"

"Around the park, it's only a little while away from here," he said as they started to walk down the road, "Then maybe we could catch the bus into the city and we'll get some junk food, or go to a fancy restaurant, it's really up to you."

"How generous," she said playfully, her hip knocking against his upper thigh as they walked, she was almost as tall as him, "I don't usually get to choose where to get food, my room mate is obsessed with a certain Italian place and absolutely refuses to go anywhere else when we go to the city."

"So Italian food is completely off-limits," he joked, smiling as she laughed this pretty laugh. Her laugh was like a bell, all twinkly and clear, and it made him laugh a little too.

"_Completely_ off-limits."

**((Kind of a shift in structure style for this chapter but I'm hoping it worked. What do you guys think? I just wanted to cover a lot for this chapter, I'm sorry if it seemed a little filler ^^'))**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

Here he was again, wrapped up in sheets with strong arms around his waist and stubble kissing his neck.

It had begun with Quaxo glaring up into the hurt face of the boy that shouldn't have been allowed to grow up, he'd not wanted to get angry but sometimes it seemed like that was all he could do in response to the older male's stupid slip ups. Tugger had forgotten the milk, it wasn't exactly cause enough for him to get angry but then when the bearded man was making his way to the kitchen, his hands in his pockets and his saunter in full swing, he knocked over a lamp. It wasn't any lamp, it was an incredibly expensive crystal piece that Quaxo's Uncle had bought them as a home-warming present and the edge of it hit the corner of the table before slapping the carpet, a chunk taken off the bottom.

"For God's sake," Quaxo said exasperatedly, getting on his knees and picking up the lamp and sighing over the break.

"Oh shit," Tugger said, his voice raised an octave nervously, "I mean, it's not so bad? I never liked that lamp."

The attempt at humour was the last straw, Quaxo felt his jaw clench and his patience wear out.

"Oh just shut _up_, will you?"

He looked up and saw Tugger's breath hitch like a half-gasp, his brow furrowed and his hands clenched into fists. Quaxo sighed again before returning the lamp to the table and standing slowly, Tugger averted his gaze and looked down at the floor.

"Sorry, I didn't realise it meant so much to..."

"It didn't," Quaxo said flatly, "It's just really expensive."

There was a pause, neither of them moved and Quaxo just stared the wilting flower down before rolling his eyes and crossing the floor to him. Tugger was a good head taller, his form poured over the younger who kept his distance at first but then advanced so he could give the other's hand a squeeze until Tugger looked up from the carpet and into his face.

"Look, I didn't mean to-"

"I know."

And that was it. There were no apologies, no drawn out explanations for the magician's little blow out, no raised voices or tears. Tugger let himself smirk, as he often did, and Quaxo gave a dry chuckle in response before swatting at him playfully. His hand was caught, as it always was, and he pretended to struggle to retrieve it as the other one raised it above his head so he had to stand on his toes and they were eye-level. They laughed for a little while, as it was impossible to not laugh in Tugger's presence sometimes, and it took him approximately four seconds to press their lips together.

So here he was again, he glanced lazily over to the bedside table where Tugger's phone was ringing and sighed a little at the name.

"Your brother's calling," he said, burrowing his head further into the pillow. He felt the frame beside him move slightly and the arm from around his waist tighten, bringing Quaxo flush to the other's bare chest.

"He can wait," the words were mumbled into Quaxo's hair and moved down his spine making him turn to face the smiling face of his house mate.

"When you asked me to live with you I didn't think this would be a part of the deal," the smaller teased lightly, his hands on the chest of his companion.

"It wouldn't have been if you weren't adorable," Tugger retaliated with raised eyebrows, "So bless your boyish charm, eh?"

He should really have got up, he had things to do, milk to buy, a little sister to visit and Tugger should have really rung his brother back but they didn't. They never did, they let themselves get enveloped in each other's warmth and Quaxo found himself slowly drift off, the other's lips on his forehead.

He needn't have worried about his sister anyway, she wasn't worrying about him at all as she walked, hand-in-hand, with her date from a little Chinese place where she'd laughed and recounted stories that made her out to be far more interesting than she actually was and began to get progressively more smitten with the boy opposite her.

Plato was funny, he was gentle in the way he spoke and generous to the servers and with the tips he left. A true gentleman. He had three brothers, he was the second oldest but had taken on the role of big brother whilst the eldest was in America, illustrating for a big comic book company. He wanted to be a P.E teacher but was taking a year from training to just relax so right now he was helping at the local nursery and gym, singing songs with toddlers and motivating unfit people to run faster. When she'd told him that she danced, he got excited and revealed that he used to dance up until he was eighteen but had stopped when uni work got far too much to handle and she'd felt her cheeks flush as she wondered how she'd found someone so compatible with her by chance.

He bundled her onto a bus and she suddenly felt a jump of panic, it was drawing to the end of their date. Had she done okay? Did she pass? She did everything she'd usually do on a date, had pressed her knee against his lightly 'on accident' and brushed his arm with her hand when she was speaking or when he made her laugh. She'd never been nervous, had always wanted to impress but never had been nervous.

He sat next to her, after paying for ticket back naturally, and turned with a little crooked smile. He was sat a little closer than he needed to be, she could feel their legs touching lightly in a way that sent electricity through her body and made her smile widen.

"This was fun, right?" he asked, she could see he was nervous too and that set her at ease slightly.

"It was fun," Victoria confirmed, "You really didn't have to pay for... everything though."

She laughed and he smiled a little too, "It's okay. You can pay next time."

Plato stopped a little, as though he had said something he shouldn't have and she felt her chest tighten as she played with her hands and smiled coyly.

"I mean, if you want there to be a next time," he corrected himself, making her giggle a little and touch his hand with hers, it was almost the same size.

"I'd like there to be a next time," she said gently, "And maybe a time after that. But what about now? I mean, I can't let you go home after buying everything for me so maybe you could come in for a bit, try my room mate's tea before making the trek to your house. As a repayment?"

He had been watching her very carefully, been analysing how she spoke softly and brushed the inside of his palm with her thumb, how her words were laced with that pretty smile and her eyelashes looked longer than they had before. A smile broke and spread across his face,

"That seems fair. Your room mate doesn't happen to be that famous magic big brother of yours, does he? Because I don't want to be at any risk of intoxication from poisoned tea."

She laughed, "No. The room mate is the midget opera singer and she's a sweetheart, honestly. She won't hover either, she was more excited about me coming on this date than I was."

"Should I be offended?" he teased, arching a brow.

"Not at all, she just doesn't have much to do nowadays," she responded with a grin which made him laugh too, he threw back his head when he laughed and showed each of his very straight teeth that were just a little bit too big for his mouth and his eyes squinted slightly so you couldn't see them beneath the masses of eyelashes. He was really, very attractive.

The bus ride home was short and full of little teases and jabs, he'd call her posh and she'd liken him to a schoolboy, they kept their hands held all the way there and only really noticed when Victoria went to grab her bag that she'd put by her feet, they acknowledged it with little chuckles before leaving the bus and of course, he thanked the driver as the doors shut behind them. The walk was shorter but it was colder now so she shivered and held her arms close to her and he watched helplessly as he'd not worn a jacket he could chivalrously drape over her shoulders. Instead, he bit his lip and draped his arm around her shoulder, watching her face for any inclination that she was uncomfortable and smiling when she giggled and placed a hand on his lightly as a silent thank you.

"Here we are," Victoria said as they stood outside her flat building, all shyness that had been dispelled suddenly rushing back to the both of them.

"Here we are," he repeated with a wry smile as she turned so that she stood opposite him.

There are certain expectations after a date that are pushed on to us from the age we're old enough to cuddle on the sofa and watch a chick flick with spoons that look like shovels of ice cream being pushed down our throats, especially after a date as typically sweet as this one an in concurrence with this convention, Plato shyly bent down and went to kiss her. She felt the blood rush to her face and her cheeks flush pink but instead of kissing her on the lips, as he was meaning to, he stopped half-way and transferred it to her forehead. It was so childish, so precious, she couldn't help but laugh before moving her lips to his and chastely pressing them together.

"You really are a wimp," she whispered as she pulled back and he laughed bashfully before mumbling,

"So tea?"

He was led to the door, their hands laced lazily together. She gave him an encouraging grin over her shoulder as she fumbled with her keys.

"She might be passed out," she mumbled as she put the key in the door, "So we'll creep in, okay?"

As she lay her hand on the handle to let them in, his darted out and clutched at it. She blinked down at them for a while before looking up at him, trying to comprehend the sudden urgency in his gesture and all he could do was shoot a smile at her.

"It feels like I'm meeting your parents," he said, a chuckle dancing on his words, "I feel like I should have bought a gift."

Victoria laughed back, "I'm sure she won't mind. If she starts to get agitated, I'll distract her with something shiny and you run, okay?"

He gave one last bark of uncertain laughter as she opened the door and bit back a smirk as he started to inhale the thick scent of honey and tea. At first, Victoria hadn't known how to react to the flat smelling very much of Jemima, it didn't feel like she'd had as much of an impact on her new living space as her friend but now she'd grown to appreciate it. She used to associate honey and tea with Jemima, now she associated it with home too. She shut the door quietly behind him before kicking off her shoes, he imitated her and stood there in his socks on her floor and it just fit. He looked right there, his being there was enough to make everything seem warm and from the way he scrunched his toes into the carpet, she guessed he knew that he looked right too.

There was a light buzz of sound in the next room, signalling her room mate's presence and she gave Plato a little wink before walking forward and into little lounge with her date on her heel.

"We have a visitor," Victoria practically sang before her eyes widened in surprise as Jemima obviously had another visitor too.

It was dark now so the lamp was on which gave the room an orange glow, the television was turned off and her friend wasn't in her armchair, instead sat there was a shirt that had lazilly been thrown over it and another shirt lay just adjacent to it. Jemima was strewn on the sofa, her dark hair pressed against the cushions with another's hand wrapped in it, her eyes wide in shock at Victoria's appearance and her lips pinker than usual. She lay underneath a taller, muscular frame and had her legs wrapped around it's hips and her hands in it's hair as though she was mimicking it's gestures. Said entangled person jumped and pulled away from her so they could examine her cute face and mumble,

"Are you okay?"

It was a masculine voice but had an element of gentleness to it and Victoria swore she'd heard it before. She'd seen those hands before too, she'd seen them wrapped in the same dark hair and with a sudden start she immediately recognised the man her friend was wrapped around.

Jemima laughed nervously, "So this must be Plato! Nice to um, meet you."

Oh Plato, he still managed to nod politely at her despite her compromising positioning and chuckle as she loosened her legs' grip on her partners hips and sat up, moving her hair away from his hand, before attempting to make herself look more presentable despite her tousled hair. Victoria began to laugh though she suddenly felt incredibly stupid for bringing her poor date home, what would he think of her now? She caught Jemima looking apologetically at her but couldn't find herself to be mad at her room mate for such a risqué first introduction, she was just concentrating on getting her and Plato out of the flat as soon as possible.

"Nice to meet you," he replied with a grin, "You're not what I was expecting. Victoria painted you to be a little housewife that made tea all day."

Victoria's eyes darted up to Plato's face, he was being so good-natured about it, he still smiled and acted impeccably towards her. The only shred of embarrassment was the pink in his cheeks and the way he'd make a little nervous laughing noise every so often. Jemima stared at him in awe too, a little disbelieving smile on her lips.

"Well, she's usually right," she shrugged "Just today went different, I can make tea if you'd like."

The figure looming over her shifted before looking awkwardly at his hands, Jemima put her hand on his shoulder briefly before coughing awkwardly.

"This is, um," she watched his face for any sign of discomfort before looking over at Victoria with a wry smile, "Well. Victoria, you've met Munkustrap."

**((A/N: Ahhh! This took longer than usual to do! Sorry about the wait and thanks for being patient with me. Also, sorry for the cheesy cliff-hanger ^^' Thanks again to everyone reading and reviewing, they do make my day c: ))**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

"You have to be... No. No, she wouldn't do that, you're fucking with me."

Munkustrap had winced, Jemima barely cursed or at least barely cursed in front of him. He'd expected her to be upset, maybe even annoyed, but she sounded angry and Jemima never sounded angry. He heard her sigh, pictured the breath drifting from her parted lips and the way she'd run her hand through her always slightly messy hair.

"Sorry to have to tell you," he'd mumbled and jumped slightly at the laugh on the other side of the phone.

"Well you had to," she'd replied, her tone artificially sunny like a light bulb flickering on the border of death, "Are you okay? How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?" Munkustrap said, feeling himself get progressively more defensive, she'd laughed at him then.

"You _know_ what I mean."

Of course he'd known, he couldn't even contest it. Instead he gave a sigh, a sigh so heavy that from her end it sounded as though he'd just walked into a big gust of wind. The girl he spoke to rubbed her temple before continuing talking to him, choosing her words carefully as he was obviously hurting.

"There's no way I'm going to let you wallow by yourself," she said gently, "Do you want me to drop by?"

"I just, I can't stay, um..."

"Understood," Jemima replied, her tone steady, "Then why don't you come here?"

So he showed up half an hour later, looking worse for wear and a little bit broken but even so, brandishing chocolate biscuits and a small smile. She'd returned that little quirk of the lips and let him in before closing the door behind him in an attempt to lock out the brisk wind from outside and maintain the warmth of her little apartment as her companion obviously needed all the warmth he could get.

They'd sat, him on the sofa and her in her chair, with tea in their laps and chocolate biscuits on the table that they'd occasionally dip into when the feeling struck them. She'd ask him about work and he'd retell funny stories about his pupils and their excuses for late coursework, he'd sympathetically assure her that employment would come soon when she recounted her experience of being fired, they'd talk about how she used to sing and dance in the garden when she thought no one was looking and how he'd patched her up after falling out of a tree when she was younger. They spoke about anything, anything but why he was broken, how he'd been hurt.

Until finally, when they were nearing the end of the packet of biscuits and on the third cup of tea, he suddenly felt his shoulders sag and his chest felt wound up as though someone was tying knots into the crevice between his pectoral muscles. She noticed as he averted his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, plastering that all-too calm smile on his face.

"I don't know, 'Mima," he'd said, making her smile sadly at the little nickname, "Is it me? I tried to keep her away from him, I really did, but she's with him and there's nothing I can do."

"Of course it's not you," Jemima said, her voice far too serious for her elfin face as she stood slowly, made her way over to him and sat cautiously beside his hunched figure.

"Then why does she keep going back? Hell, why do I let her?" a bitter laugh escaped his lips and she decided that it didn't suit him at all.

"Because she loves him," she said flatly, "God knows why but she does and... And you're not some jealous boy and you want to see her happy."

Munkustrap had looked at her then and their eyes locked, his stare was usually comforting and secure but she saw a hint of fear flash in the blue glow of his eyes and she wanted to take it away because he wasn't meant to be scared. He was Munkustrap, he was safe and brave and he wasn't meant to be scared.

"Since when did you get so grown up?" he said teasingly but the laughter that followed fell flat, "You're right. God, you're always right, just like your damn sisters."

"I know," she said, nudging him playfully, "I just wish I got their height too."

Munkustrap had given a dry chuckle as he felt her little hand on his forearm and marked it up as another difference between her and her sisters, she was soft and far less invasive than the older two who would have already had their arms wrapped around him and their hands rubbing circles into his back.

"I have better taste, though," she said gently, "If it helps, I don't understand how she could choose him over the much superior option."

He laughed then and looked at her with a raised eyebrow, she was teasing him and he could tell by the way she smiled expectantly at him and looked a little satisfied when he scoffed. They sat like that for a while, her hand on his arm and him chuckling at her attempts of humor. Until finally, the soprano chirped again.

"In all seriousness," she'd said slowly as though she was still thinking over whether or not what she was about to say was a good idea, "You're great, Munkustrap and I have no idea how she can't see that and- and please don't beat yourself up over this, she'll come around or you'll find someone who appreciates how great you are."

He blinked at her before shrugging and felt her sigh next to him, "I don't know about that."

"Oh please," the elfin girl said, her brow furrowing slightly but a smile still on your face, "You're the most considerate person I've met and you're kind and sweet and I think everyone's just a little bit in love with you. You can ask anyone and they'll tell you the same, you're great."

He'd been shocked at the sudden praise at first. He'd felt the warmth of her dark eyes that darted over every aspect of his face, the light brushing of her thumb against his skin. He looked at her then, let himself take in the edges of her cheekbones and jawline, the thickness of her brows, the depth of her eyes. She'd grown into a beautiful young woman and it was slightly terrifying. It was like he was a teenager again, meeting her sisters for the first time and being overwhelmed by the curves of their figure and their perceptive stares, one's golden hair that flicked at the ends and the other's voluminous red curls, their smell. She wasn't the shy girl that clung to her older sister's leg and cried when she accidentally spilled milk when she was being taught by their Auntie how to make tea.

She was Jemima. She was a dependable young woman who radiated maturity beyond her years whilst still maintaining the sensitivity and indiscriminate love for everyone of a child. She was touching his arm and suddenly one of them leaned in and they were kissing.

He forgot who instigated it. He'd started to feel guilty as her nimble fingers played with the buttons on his shirt and she pulled back for reassurance, which he gave almost automatically. When his top was bare and she'd looked on his chest for as long as he felt comfortable, he kissed her again and let his hands fall uncertainly to the hem of her own shirt. She pulled back again and held her hands in the air, looking as though she was surrendering, and he pulled it over her head to reveal her bra. He was caught in the crossroads of wanting to bundle her up in a blanket, make her a cup of tea and forget it all happened and wanting to stare to assure himself that she was not a silly child any more, she was an adult and she knew what she was doing.

Then Victoria came in and Jemima scrambled to try and make the situation look as casual as possible though no one in the room believed that this was just a friendly visit. Munkustrap waved at Victoria before standing awkwardly and coughing as though to clear his throat before launching into a long speech,

"I suppose I should- I should maybe," he started, his hands clapping down on his thighs slightly.

"You should go," Jemima finished with a giggle, "I mean, if you want, you're welcome to stay of course. I'm sure it can't get any more uncomfortable than this."

Munkustrap gave a brief chuckle, "No, I should go. Thanks for that Jemima, I'll, um, I'll see you soon."

He started to walk away, smiling shyly at Victoria as he did and feeling unsure about why the blonde was laughing at him until he felt a little hand on his shoulder. The same little hand that had resided on his forearm, that had soothed him and he turned and looked down into a smile and brown eyes.

"Shirt, Munkus," she said teasingly, handing it over. He blinked at it as if it was offending him before laughing and throwing it over his shoulders.

"Yep. Good idea."

He'd left still buttoning it up and Jemima watched his retreating frame, her eyes scanning the muscles in his back and her hands itching to undo all of the knots that made it look tense. And that was that. He was gone.

Victoria was still giggling, "Shirt, Jemima."

The dark-haired girl jumped and her face flushed as she ran over to her abandoned shirt and flung it over her head before smiling apologetically to the couple stood in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, that's not a regular thing, I promise," she said hurriedly, "Tea, yeah?"

Jemima was wowed by Plato, as Victoria had hoped she would be. He'd complimented her tea, spoke about the date and laughed it off when she tried to apologise again for her appearance when he'd first come in. Victoria watched him as he spoke with as much ease as he had on their date, there was no sign of nervousness or worry and when the time came for him to leave, she walked him out.

"So that was my room mate," she said, a smile playing at the edges of her lips.

"She's nice," Plato concluded, "I didn't expect to see her topless though, I will admit."

Victoria laughed and shrugged, "I'm going to have to berate her about that."

Plato laughed a little back before looking down the street and sighed before positioning himself a little closer to her so that she had to tilt her head so she could see his face properly. Slowly, but with a slight certainty, he kissed her softly and smiled against her lips as her hand went up to brush his cheek. He pulled away slightly, grinning at the adorable doe-eyed look on her face.

"We'll do this again, right?" he whispered and she nodded with a smile, "Then I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

She didn't watch him leave, she didn't want to seem too keen although keen was all she was feeling at that moment. She sighed before going back into the flat where an excited Jemima sat waiting for her with an expectant grin.

"He's nice," the younger sang, "Very nice, good bone structure too."

"He is, isn't he?" Victoria said excitedly, brushing a hand through her hair. She made her way over to her armchair and flopped in it, a contended smile on her pretty face and it struck Jemima that she'd not seen Victoria this happy before. Her blue eyes practically sparkled and her cheeks were pink with a lovely flush that made her healthy and radiant, her lips, if Jemima wasn't mistaken were freshly kissed and she touched them lightly with her fingers as though she was checking they were still there.

"We'll be seeing each other again soon, he gave me his number at dinner and I know it's a little silly to get so excited but I really can't wait," the blonde said with a grin.

"Did you go to the Italian place?"

"Oh God no."

Jemima giggled, her finger going around the rim of her empty mug and her eyes falling on the nearly finished packet of biscuits that lay tauntingly on the table, she didn't really see them though she could only see Munkustrap's almost pained expression as he darted out of the flat and guilt soaked her through, making her cold with realisation of what had happened. Victoria watched her inquisitively before timidly patting her lap.

"Come tell big sister Vicky all about it," she cooed, Jemima blinked up and tried to laugh it off.

"Oh God, Vic. It's nothing, really."

"Like hell is it nothing," Victoria said bluntly, her patting getting more insistent until Jemima stood and wedged herself next to Victoria on the little cramped armchair.

Their friendship had grown strong in such a short time, they'd gotten used to nudging each other with their hips if they were in the way, playing with each other's hair or sharing an armchair for a brief moment if one of them needed to talk as it was evident that Jemima definitely needed to talk, try as she may to brush it off as she always did. Platinum mixed with mahogany and Victoria threw her arm around her friend's smaller frame with a little smile.

"You told me there was nothing going on between you and Munkustrap," Victoria started, her tone was neither offended nor accusing but simply tender, prying.

"There's not," Jemima said slightly glumly, her shoulders sagged and her face crumpled for a fraction of a second, "It's stupid. I can't believe I, we-"

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Victoria said gently, "He's hot."

Jemima made a little grunt, displaying her concurrence with the other girl before they both broke into a trail of giggles. Victoria gave her a squeeze before continuing to inquire about what she'd witnessed.

"So why was he here?" she asked. Jemima bit her lip and played with her hands and Victoria saw her eyes water and automatically wanted to cradle the younger girl. She'd seen Jemima cry plenty of times before, Jemima would cry at a good book, a film, a song, sometimes she'd even cry at the news but Victoria could handle how easily Jemima could be moved because usually she was so strong, laughing off everything and coping with a cup of tea whenever life got too stressful, she'd never cried about anything that directly affected her before. Victoria looked at her, her brows furrowed with concern and her lips pursed as Jemima took a deep breath and her shoulders sagged.

"Um, my sister," Jemima started, "The one that he's madly in love with."

"The one that lives about half an hour away and still hasn't visited you?" Victoria said with an edge of resentment, she'd never questioned Jemima's family dynamic but found herself disliking the thought of one of her sisters, the blonde one in the family photo that Jemima had framed because Victoria found it incredibly ignorant of her to not make a bus ride over to check on her little sister but she bit her tongue constantly around her room mate, not wanting to spur an argument.

"That's the one, that's Demeter" Jemima said lightly, "She rang him up earlier, she's got back with her ex."

"Oh?"

"Her ex, he's Munkustrap and Tugger's brother and he's a nasty piece of work. A really clever man, really artistic too but he has this really mean streak and we've tried so hard to convince her that he's not worth her time but she keeps going back and it's not as if he's ever done anything _to _her, it's just the way he is around her. Like, the way he looks at her."

"The way he looks at her?" Victoria asked, confusion prominent on her face but an obvious willing to understand in her voice.

"He looks at her like... Like she's this pretty doll that he got for Christmas one year."

"He sounds pleasant," the blonde grimaced, making Jemima shrug and play with her hands.

"Munkustrap, he's always wanted Demeter and I think he thought that this time maybe it'd actually happen but," she paused, "I guess it just didn't. So he rang me after trying to talk to Tugger about it, but Tugger being Tugger didn't answer his phone and I guess it was to tell me since Demeter wouldn't, she'd think I'd tell Bombalurina who'd go skitz. Anyway, he was sad so I invited him over and we just-"

Victoria nodded knowingly, peering at Jemima's ashen face and how the girl kept her brown eyes on the floor so she didn't have to look the blonde girl in the face.

"Jemima," Victoria tried, "Do you... Do you maybe like Munkustrap a little bit?"

Jemima sighed, her voice wavered now, "Well if I didn't, I don't think I would have... Oh God, Vicky, I'm an idiot sometimes. I really am."

"No you're not."

"He's eight years older than me, he loves my sister and I'm sure that was the last thing he needed right now," Jemima mumbled, burying her head in her hands, "I'm so stupid."

Victoria shifted so she could bring Jemima closer and play with her dark hair. It hurt to watch her so upset, Jemima was a sweet girl, always putting other's needs before her own and to see her look so sad. She looked like a wilted sunflower and Victoria didn't like it, she didn't like it one bit.

"Listen to me, Miss," Victoria said softly with a smile, "You're not stupid. You're the bravest nineteen year old I've ever met, living with a mental ballet dancer and on top of that, you make the best damn tea I've ever tasted and I won't have you thinking that you're stupid. If he didn't want to kiss you, then he wouldn't have. Whether or not something comes from this is to be decided, right? And if I ever hear you calling yourself stupid again, I'll pirouette you to death, got it?"

"With your pointe shoes?" Jemima said meekly and Victoria could hear the smile in her voice.

"You bet your arse with my pointe shoes."

Jemima giggled and looked up at her friend. She was lucky to have Victoria with her, if she'd had to sit on her own after that she didn't know what she would have done, probably just sat and sulked. It was refreshing to have the blonde there, to have a comforting ear that understood her entirely without being patronising.

"Thanks Mum," Jemima teased making the blonde nudge her playfully, "Now enough about this, it's depressing me. Tell me all about your date. Do you think he'll be your boyfriend now? Will you get married? Have children with perfectly symmetrical faces and the highest cheekbones ever to grace this planet?"

**((A/N: I've been gone for a while! Sorry guys, I'm currently working as an elf for Christmas which includes twelve hour shifts, that's also on top of college work too! Ahhh! I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway! Thanks again c: ))**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers**

Victoria stretched, a sigh escaping her lips as she felt her muscles get suppler. She looked around the room, watching tall and toned frames chattering as they warmed up too and she marvelled at how friendly everyone was being despite knowing that everyone in the room was their competition, the obstacle they had to jump over, the corner they had to avoid. She straightened up and laced up her dance shoes, throwing a wary look at her pointe shoes that she almost forgot this morning. She smiled fondly as she remembered her room mate running down the street in her pyjamas and bed hair, waving the shoes in the air and crying frantically.

"Oi! Toria! Your pointy shoes! YOU FORGOT YOUR POINTY SHOE THINGS!"

She'd been irritating said room mate over the past week by walking around the flat en pointe and randomly falling into the splits in the most inconvenient of places, whenever the younger counter part would complain or look at her indignantly, she'd simply have to answer with 'audition.' She didn't count on someone falling down into the splits right next to her though and suddenly realised how irritating she was probably being, the person stretched long arms and pressed their chest to their leg before drawing in a long breath and sitting up.

"Hello," the person said, smiling a big grin and brushing a hand through wheat coloured hair as Victoria blinked dumbfounded at the interruption. She'd been counting on preparing quietly, she was always shy at auditions and found it odd to converse with people who were hoping for her to fail but this person, a girl with freckles, drew a smile from her and made her nod politely.

"Hello," Victoria responded as the freckled girl began to stretch from side to side, accentuating her small waist.

"This is my first audition for anything like this," the girl confided with a cheeky smile and a shrug, "Everyone seems so big and scary so I thought I'd come to you since you look relatively normal."

"Oh?" Victoria said with a small giggle and the girl ducked her head slightly but showed no further sign of embarrassment.

"I mean, you don't look like you wake up in a tutu. If you get what I mean?"

Victoria gave a quick look around the room again and stifled a smirk when she realised what the newcomer meant. There were a few 'relatively normal' people dotted around the place, talking in little groups as they got ready but the majority were women with strong arms and tight buns or men with surly expressions and perfectly arched eyebrows.

"I get what you mean," Victoria said with a giggle, the girl's grin broadened as she brought her legs out of the splits and crossed them. She looked a little childlike, with a rounded face that didn't match her slim body and brown eyes that crinkled when she grinned. Her wheat hair was tied so half of it was in a cute ponytail on the top of her head and the rest fell just past her shoulders, and she wore a pink leotard that contrasted with everyone else's choice that consisted mainly of black and made Victoria feel a little safer in her white. She extended a hand and grinned as Victoria took it.

"I'm Etcetera," she said, shaking it gently.

"Victoria."

The door opened and silence fell over the room, two men entered with bright grins accompanied by the elegant woman that Victoria had grown to be enchanted with over countless of emails.

Cassandra was not in her regular pencil skirt and shirt but still looked entirely put together in leggings and a crop top that showed her toned stomach off. She turned heads, as usual, and Victoria found that barely anyone paid the two men any attention until one of them coughed and clamoured for everyone to look at them.

"Okay guys! Thanks for attending today, we really appreciate it. As you know, if you're successful at this audition you'll be offered the position of a dancer in the new talent show we're launching in the upcoming year which is going to look great on your show reels. We'll need you all to learn some simple choreography and perform it as a group and then as far as I'm aware there'll be time for you to dance individually to a prepared piece. Everyone understand?"

There was a sea of nodding heads. Victoria felt her chest flutter as the man nodded and started to introduce himself and the two beside him.

"My name is Bill Bailey, but please call me Bill. I'm part of the station's creative organisation team so I'll just be making sure that everything's up to scratch. Next to me is the two creative directors, George, who will be the creative director of the show you'll be working on and Cassandra who foresees all of the creative directors and who'll be assisting George. You'll be dancing for us today. Good luck guys."

Cassandra caught Victoria's eye and gave her a sly wink before sitting next to Bill as George took the floor and began walking the group through the choreography. It was easy enough, Victoria focused and copied the motions with a determined smile as Etcetera danced beside her with a slight uncertainty on her face. She couldn't help her eyes slyly peeking at Cassandra every now and again who, despite her calm demeanour and overall grace, seemed a little off. Her tanned skin had a grey tinge to it, her eyes seemed to water every now and then and she had a hand placed firmly over her torso but she continued to speak to Bill and look over the dancers coolly as she took notes, presumably on them.

After they'd memorised the turns and the kicks, the group of dancers performed to the three people who watched intently and occasionally scribbled notes in their notepads. Victoria looked at them all in the mirror on the wall, dancing in unison with identical grins on their faces, they looked nightmarish. It was all too perfect, all too synchronised. They could be one person right now and she supposed that was why Cassandra started to look apprehensive.

That was until Cassandra whispered quickly to George next to her before running out of the dance studio, clutching her stomach and clasping a hand over her mouth to the sound of George and Bill jeering for them all to ignore her and continue as people watched her unsure expressions.

Cassandra ran to the disabled toilets and slammed the door, not bothering to lock it before feeling sick and whatever else escape her lips and fall into the toilet. She had enough time to stare down at it in disgust before she continued to empty her stomach, feeling tears prick at her eyes and her stomach wrench. She hated being sick, it made her feel pathetic and especially in front of a group of novice dancers who she'd wanted to make a powerful impression on. The music from the dance studio cut out and there was a clamour of footsteps before a loud boom of rap music, Cassandra groaned as she remembered the individual dances and how wistful Victoria had looked when the girl realised she'd be present at the audition. She tried to stand up, ready to sneak in there so not to let the little doll down but felt the floor spin beneath her feet and prompted her to lean over the bowl and vomit again.

The rap music cut out, the small girl with cute plaits that Victoria assumed would be a sweet dancer stopped body popping, gave a delicate bow before swanning over and joining the rest of the group as the room filled with applause. She looked over to the empty space between George and Bill Bailey and felt her throat tighten, she'd felt safer with the familiar face in the room, with Cassandra backing her and she prayed silently that the woman would return before it was her turn.

"Etcetera!" Bill Bailey called out and Victoria felt the sunny girl next to her stiffen and her bright aura falter slightly. Victoria turned and gave her an encouraging smile as she stood slowly and made her way to the centre of the room, passing her prepared CD to Bill Bailey as she did with a little smile.

The music started and Etcetera began to dance. It was bright and breezy and seemed to echo Victoria's overall impression of the girl. Etcetera was a good dancer too although the nervousness of her dance was prominent, but for a first time audition she wasn't doing bad at all. She danced with her arms outstretched and fingers and toes pointed, her legs would shake every now and then but it didn't affect her overall performance. Occasionally, she'd flip and lose her balance but nothing detrimental to the dance and by the time the music died and Etcetera was bowing, Victoria was pretty impressed. Etcetera was more of a contemporary dancer, not so much as the plait girl who was obviously trained in street dance, but in a way that seemed refreshing and light. Her wheat hair ruffled slightly from her back springs and her crazy arm movements, Etcetera took her CD back and sat down next to Victoria with an uneasy smile.

It seemed an age until Victoria was finally called and Cassandra still hadn't come back. She'd laced up her pointe shoes during the previous performance, she blushed as she walked over to Bill Bailey and handed over her own CD before taking the centre. She took a moment to breathe as the music started playing, reminding herself that she'd trained hard enough for this, that this was all she wanted, all she was good at.

Then the music played and she felt as though she was floating. The familiarity of dance, of people watching her as she moved with grace and poise, was refreshing. Piano music played out from nearly blown out speakers and lifted her, it made her steps light and her hand movements elegant. She lifted her head and felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips and she was fully aware of how beautiful she looked. After all, if she felt so beautiful how could she not look it? She felt any anxiety, any worry that she had about making ends meet and paying the bills, about her brother and how he was doing so much better than her, about sweet Jemima and her lack of employment, just melt away. She was five years old and in line for Santa's Grotto again, she was thirteen years old and having her first kiss again, she was on her first date with Plato again.

There was a trill, she did a final twirl before pirouetting and finishing flawlessly, at least it would be flawless if she didn't realise that she had a slightly desperate expression by the end of her performance. The room filled with claps as it did so many times before but Victoria couldn't help but feel pretty special as she took her seat and heard Bill Bailey and George whisper to each other with smiles on their faces.

"Jesus," Etcetera whispered, "Are you sure you weren't _born _in a tutu?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Didn't she have breakfast?"

Tugger blinked up into the wry smirk of his elder brother, his eyebrow arched in confusion. The blond sniggered before tapping on the other's neck, making Tugger laugh nervously back and pull up his shirt collar a bit more in order to hide the bruise residing there from Quaxo's clumsy lips and teeth. He thanked God that Quaxo was currently out because if the magician had been loitering he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep composure with his usual Tugger grin.

"Is that why you weren't answering my call the other day?" Munkustrap teased. He'd always found it pretty easy to revert to childishness around his younger brother which included teasing him whenever her found an opportunity and the hickey on his neck served perfectly for that purpose. That wasn't to say he didn't have a sense of humour usually, it was just that he was a little more sensible around other people because it seemed like that was what was expected of him. Being the middle son of a retired High Judge and Bourgeoisie-Lady-About-Town was enough pressure but when the eldest son decided to go off the rails and get involved with organised crime and the youngest became the most irresponsible slut to grace the Earth, Munkustrap took it upon himself to be the sensible college Tutor who visited their recently widowed Father, organised family get-togethers and generally made sure everyone was eating okay.

"It might have been," Tugger said, feigning a coy smile, "What were you calling for anyway?"

Munkustrap felt himself physically pale as he remembered a certain elfin girl in his arms, staining his lips with tea and honey, winding little fingers in his hair. Tugger obviously picked up on this as his eyebrows shot up in surprise and he gave a dry chuckle as he always did when he was feeling uncomfortable.

"You okay there, Straps?" Munkustrap ran a hand through his hair and smiled uncertainly at his younger brother who watched him with those concerned brown eyes that he'd inherited from their Father, the same brown eyes that Munkustrap had always been envious of.

"I'm fine," Munkustrap said, laughing it off as he always did, "It was um.. It was our brother dearest is all."

Tugger rolled his eyes, "Oh?"

Tugger had always been closer to their oldest brother than Munkustrap had because at first Tugger saw him as the 'cool rebellious one', the one that bought him alcohol to go out with while he was under age, the one that taught him to smoke before he quit, the one that forged notes to get him out of P.E lessons. He still had a soft spot for their brother, as he knew Munkustrap did, and he just couldn't get past this idyllic image of his big brother despite all of the reckless things he knew his big brother did.

"Well really it's him and Demeter. As in, they're back together. I think he's already got a key to her house."

"Jesus Christ," Tugger murmured, "Is she legitimately brain dead?"

Munkustrap winced on the absent woman's behalf but Tugger continued with full vigour.

"I mean, Demeter's pretty messed up as it is and God knows he's not right in the head. How can either of them possible think that's a good foundation for a relationship?"

"She was never messed up until he came along," Munkustrap interjected, his indignant tone becoming more apparent with every syllable. Tugger held up his hand and scowled slightly which led his older brother to sigh and run a hand agitatedly through his hair, Tugger never wanted to talk about the downfall of Macavity because it acted as a cruel reminder that it was all very real and the youngest of the three liked to pretend that his family wasn't as dysfunctional as it actually was.

"Bombalurina's going to go crazy," Tugger mumbled after a sufficiently awkward silence, "I'm not sure how Jemima will take it though, she was always a little more understanding."

"She was angry," Munkustrap said cautiously, feeling his chest tighten slightly as Tugger peered at him inquisitively.

"You told her?"

"Yeah, I phoned her up after you," he paused, "It was stupid really... I just needed someone talk to about it and I thought she'd want to know."

"And she was angry?" Tugger asked, confusion etched into every of his warm features and laced into his voice, "We're speaking about the same Jemima, right? Pretty girl, around about the size of a teacup?"

Munkustrap laughed to keep guilt from rising up his throat as he pictured his hands running down the teacup girl's body. He had a sudden urge to come out and admit everything to Tugger, to recount how he'd been so vile as to kiss a girl who was nearly ten years younger than him, the little sister of a woman he was still incredibly in love with. He knew Tugger would understand, he'd probably tell him not to worry so much and laugh about how guilty he was feeling but he couldn't get the words out, couldn't form a coherent sentence about her.

"The very same," Munkustrap replied weakly.

"Did you manage to calm her down?" Tugger said, leaning forward slightly, his interest obviously piqued, "How did you do it?"

"I just went over to hers, we had tea, ate biscuits."

"Tea," Tugger laughed a little, "Do you think that's something she's picked up from Jenny? Everything can be solved with a cup of tea. Nothing else is needed but tea."

**((A/N: This is pre' late! I'm sorry, I think I've explained that I'm all caught up in work but I'm sorry anyway! I hope this chapter was okay for you all!))**


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